Book 30 - Losing My Religion
by GailDunn2
Summary: WARNING: VIOLENCE AND ADULT SITUATIONS. Castiel is God now, and he plans to wage a Holy War. But, what would be the consequences if he follows through with his plan? Meanwhile, Rob is growing up fast. Cas begins to liberate some souls, and a few familiar faces emerge. But when an unexpected attack takes place, what will be the repercussions?
1. King Of Wishful Thinking,Queen of Denial

Chapter 1 - King Of Wishful Thinking, Queen Of Denial

Cas held up his hand. "Just a moment," he said to Gail. "Crowley's sending me a message on our Originals' frequency."

She sat back in her chair and waited. Cas hadn't bothered to replace the Hotline that Patricia had ripped out of the credenza. There was no need for it any more. As two out of the three surviving Originals, Cas and Crowley could just converse in their heads, and as the third, Gail could do the same, with either man.

The conversation was brief, apparently, because a moment later, Cas focused on Gail again. "He wants to have a meeting," her husband told her. "He claims he is interested in discussing diplomacy."

"Well, if that's the case, shouldn't you hear him out?" Gail said. "I can go with you, if you like. I could be a buffer, in case things go south between the two of you." In case? Who was she kidding? The way Cas was now, war would probably be declared before Crowley's butt even hit his chair. Cas and his brother had never gotten along even at the best of times, when they had been erstwhile allies. But now, Cas was God, and he had Might on his side, if not Right. What he didn't have was the armies; at least, not yet. There were thousands of Angels being trained in Heaven currently, but they were hardly battle-ready. This fact actually gave Gail hope. If they could negotiate a detente with Crowley now, perhaps there might not be a war at all. But that was if Crowley was sincere about his desire to seek diplomacy, of course. It wasn't as if he was the world's most trustworthy individual.

Cas was considering Gail's offer to accompany him. A part of him didn't want her to come, because that part of him was spoiling for a fight. That part of him wasn't the least bit interested in a diplomatic solution. When Patricia had been drugging and programming him, she had installed a form of religious mania in his brain. Like Crowley himself, Patricia had been thinking several chess moves ahead in the game. She had been crazy, but she had been crazy like a fox. She had known that she wouldn't be able to sustain the Office for very long. Every day she'd been God, she'd gotten a little crazier. She had tried redecorating the place, but to no avail. Every time she had looked around, she had seen Lucifer's face, and heard his taunts. It had gotten so bad that she'd actually briefly considered running Heaven from her old office. But she just couldn't bring herself to do it. How could she be taken seriously in a place like that? So she had carried on, with all the dignity she could muster. When she had started to dose Castiel, her initial motivation had merely been to subdue him. But she had noticed that the sedation made him very susceptible to suggestion. So at first, she had instituted the concept of revulsion at physical contact with Gail, mainly out of spite.

But then, as the days and weeks wore on and Patricia's psyche began to fracture, she'd known that she wasn't going to last much longer. All of that planning and hard work, and it was about to go down the drain. She had been thinking about what her legacy as God could possibly be. As the first female God, Patricia had wanted to put her stamp on the Office, to cement her place in history. But she'd also known that she was running out of time.

Then, she'd had the inspiration: What about if she were able to be the puppet master behind the modern-day Holy War? With Patricia out of the way, the Office would go to Castiel. Patricia had no doubt that Castiel's imprisonment and addled mental state were both temporary conditions. When she finally had her nervous breakdown, Castiel and Gail would emerge victorious in the end, and Patricia would be reduced to a brief and pathetic footnote in Heaven's history. But what about if she were to ensure that Castiel's reign were to be the one that precipitated the Beginning of The End? So she had begun to plant the seeds in Castiel's mind, and even though she wasn't currently around to see it, Patricia would have been extremely gratified to see that her plan was coming along very nicely.

Cas had never had a chance. The poison of the chemicals had gone to work on him, and Patricia's constant haranguing had done the rest. Cas's insecurities had come back in full force, and the feelings of guilt that she had installed had manifested themselves in a form of religious mania. From that point, it had been a short jump to the notion that, as God, Castiel had to hold himself to a higher ideal than everyone else. Therefore, he now felt like it was his responsibility to forgo any sort of personal pleasure, as the martyrs did in the olden times. Cas knew that Gail was hurt and disappointed by his behaviour, but he couldn't seem to help it. He had no business going to Earth for parties with humans while individuals like Crowley were allowed to flourish. And he had no business making himself happy while others suffered.

The Holy War would fix everything, Cas's warped mind assured him. When they had eradicated Lucifer, they had only done part of the job. Once Castiel vanquished Crowley, the Angels would be protected from Evil, and so would the humans. It was the only thing that made sense. Only then would Cas be able to ease up enough to socialize with his friends. Surely Gail could understand that.

Cas sighed. He supposed she really should come along, though. Historically, he and Crowley had never been able to get together without multiple death threats being issued, and Castiel was not yet ready to declare war. That was, if he even would declare it. It would make more sense strategically to just suddenly attack, although he supposed that wouldn't be very sporting. But his soldiers were still in training, and most of the Angels were still too green to be sending into battle. Riley, Ethan and Kevin were Castiel's coordinators, going from classroom to classroom, reporting on the progress of the cadets, and his lieutenants had advised that they would probably need a minimum of six more months' training.

So Cas knew that he was not yet prepared to go through with his plan, but he also knew that when it came to Crowley, his temper frequently got the better of him. Plus, quite frankly, he was curious to hear what Crowley had to say, and how much his brother knew about Castiel's operations.

"I would like it if you came," he told his wife now. "Sometimes, you are able to get him to tell you things that he will not tell me."

"That's if he's telling the truth, of course," Gail said, making a face. "That's always a hit-and-miss kind of proposition."

Cas nodded. She was certainly right about that. If only there was a way - Wait. There was.

"The crocodile tooth," they said together.

Cas smiled for a moment, and Gail's heart soared. She couldn't remember the last time she'd seen him smile. It was such a simple thing, but it was so important.

They were both remembering that long, long night before they were due to go to Madagascar for their final confrontation with Lucifer. They had been examining the markings on their Angel blades, and Kevin had discovered a notation on Cas's blade which had seemed both weird and funny, at the same time. It had stated that, if they wished to elicit just one statement from Crowley that was guaranteed to be the truth, they should have him imbibe a ground-up crocodile tooth.

Cas took his blade out of his blazer pocket now, and scanned it for that particular notation. Sure enough, it was right there. What a strange and oddly specific thing to be on his blade, but, there it was.

He looked at Gail. "Please wait here. I will be right back." He popped out, and a few minutes later, he returned. His clothes were bloody and so was his blade, but he had the tooth in his hand.

Gail moved towards him automatically, waving her hands over his clothing, cleaning up the blood. Then she waved her hand over the blade, and a second later, it was sparkling. "Did it give you much of a hard time?" she asked him, bemused.

"Remember, I have the ability to tame beasts," he told her. "I lulled it into a stupor before I killed it."

"Too bad you couldn't have done that to the alligators in Fort Lauderdale," she commented, smiling.

"I couldn't take the chance. There were too many of them, and they were too close to you. You are way too precious to me to risk in that manner," Cas said softly.

"That's the nicest thing you've said to me in a long time," Gail said sadly.

Cas frowned. "You feel as if I've been very hard on you, don't you?"

Gail lifted an eyebrow. "Well, now that you mention it..."

"I'm sorry you feel that way," Cas said in a monotone. He waved his hand, and the crocodile tooth was reduced to powder in his fist. He stashed his blade in his pocket, and then produced an envelope out of thin air to put the powder in. Then he looked at her. "I will tell him we will meet him at the bar on Cayer Road, near our Earthly home. I'll tell him that we want to meet him in a public place, for security reasons. He and I will seat ourselves in one of the booths around the corner from the bar, and I will keep him occupied while you obtain his drink from the bar, putting the powder into it. Stir it well. Get yourself a drink too, so he will not be suspicious. Then, after we allow a few minutes for the drink to take hold, I will teleport us to our house, so that we may get the information from him in private."

Gail regarded him coolly. So, he wasn't sorry he was being hard on her, he was just sorry that she felt that way. And he was ordering her around like she was one of his subjects, or something. Her eyes narrowed. But this wasn't exactly a good time for a domestic dispute between her and Cas. All of her energies were going to have to be spent trying to keep her husband from smiting the crap out of Crowley during Happy Hour.

She sighed, and took the envelope from Cas's hand.

"I hadn't figured you for a 'corner bar' type of guy, Castiel," Crowley said, when they met on the street in front of the establishment.

"What about me?" Gail piped up.

Crowley regarded her. "You? It wouldn't surprise me one bit to discover they have a drink named after you."

Her lips twitched furiously. Whatever else could be said about the King of Hell, his prowess for rejoinders rivalled her own. And how pathetic was the state of affairs right now that she was looking forward to his company over her own husband's? At least the King of Hell could usually be counted on for a laugh or two.

They entered the bar, and Cas gestured to Crowley. "Come. There is a booth around the corner from the bar where you and I can sit and talk."

Crowley's forehead wrinkled. "What about the missus?"

"She will get a drink for you, and one for herself, and meet us there in a moment," Cas replied.

Crowley looked at the couple curiously. On the one hand, if God was buying, he'd take a double. But on the other hand, this was so unlike them that it gave him pause. Since when did Gail play fetch for her husband? It had always been the other way around. And the Angels weren't holding hands, or even standing close together. Odd. Perhaps they'd had a disagreement right before coming here. Crowley wondered what a domestic dispute between God and his wife would look like, and his beard twitched. Could God be made to bed down on the couch? Oh, how he would love to be a fly on the wall to see little Gail put the Almighty in his place. Then, when they had their make-up sex, she would be calling out...well, his name, wouldn't she? So many jokes, so little time.

Castiel had already started off towards the booth, so Crowley trailed along behind him. The men sat themselves, amid an awkward silence.

"So, how is Heaven?" Crowley ventured.

"Heaven is Heaven," Castiel replied, somewhat non-responsively.

Crowley nodded slowly. "You're quite right, Castiel. Heaven IS Heaven. And it must seem even more so now, now that the unfortunate Patricia got what she so richly deserved. Am I right?"

Cas gave a half-shrug. "The woman was unbalanced."

And that was it. That was all he had to say about Patricia, the woman who had thrown him in jail and drugged him so badly he hadn't even recognized his own wife? This was getting curiouser and curiouser. The man sitting before the King of Hell was talking like the old Castiel, the avenging Angel with the stick up his bum a mile wide. Maybe it was because he had finally achieved the High Office now, and felt he should conduct himself with a little bit more decorum. Crowley wondered how well this new yet nauseatingly familiar persona was sitting with Gail. Probably, not very. That could explain the lack of hand-holding.

Meanwhile, Gail ordered a double scotch for Crowley, and a glass of wine for herself. She reached into her pocket for the money Cas had given her, and when the bartender's back was turned, she took the envelope out of her other pants pocket and emptied the powder into Crowley's drink, grabbing a stir-stick from the end of the bar to stir it with. Then she brought the drinks over to the booth, sliding in beside her husband.

"What did I miss?" she said flippantly.

"Some very scintillating conversation," Crowley said dryly. "Did you know, for instance, that Heaven is Heaven?" He picked up the drink she'd set before him. "Ta," he said, then, "Cheers."

Gail clinked her glass with his, and they both had a sip. She tensed for a moment, but the ground-up crocodile tooth didn't seem to alter the taste of the scotch he was drinking, or he probably would have reacted. Then again, Gail had tried scotch once before, and in her opinion, the tooth could only improve its flavour.

Crowley took another sip, then set the glass down. "How are you enjoying being Heaven's First Lady, sweetheart?" he asked Gail. "Tell me, what are some of the perks?"

What the hell? She could play, for a couple of minutes. "Perks? Let me see," she said. "Fifty percent off at the halo-shining store, front row seats for any production of Godspell, and the Junior Seraphs have to mow our lawn for free. Oh, and I'm trying to get a hymn written about me, but do you know how few positive words rhyme with 'Gail'?"

Crowley smiled, nodding his head in approval of her humour. The Queen of the Quip was alive and well, even if her husband looked like he had just sucked an orchard of lemons.

"I mean, think about it," Gail continued. "Fail, jail, wail...even kale. Have you ever tried that stuff? It's disgusting."

Crowley was getting very close to rewarding her with a rare laugh, but then Castiel said, "We did not come here for idle chit-chat. Why did you ask for this meeting, Crowley?"

The King shrugged. "Maybe I just wanted some idle chit-chat. You'll find the throne is sometimes a lonely place, Castiel. It's not easy leading flocks of sheeple. Trying to decide what's best for them." He took another sip of his drink. "Angels and Demons are not that different from each other, you know. Neither species is exactly in the habit of making smart decisions. They need a leader with a firm hand, and the courage of his convictions. A goals-oriented kind of individual. And I hear that you're very goal-oriented these days."

"What have you heard? And how have you heard it?" Cas said sharply.

Crowley took another sip. "Relax, Castiel. You don't have a mole in your organization. I just say those sorts of things to sound mysterious and enigmatic." Wait, what? Why had he said that?

Gail was trying not to smile now. That sort of comment was more crocodile than Crowley, more tooth than truth, maybe. Or, maybe they were one and the same, she thought slyly. In another minute, he was going to be completely under the influence of the world's weirdest truth serum. "Cheers," she said, lifting her wine glass. Crowley clinked with her, and they both drank. Most of his drink was gone now, and Cas thought it might be time to wink them all over to the house. He just had to wait until the young man coming towards them passed by the booth, and then, there would be no witnesses to their sudden disappearance.

"Dude, that lady totally 'roofied' you," the guy said to Crowley on his way by, gesturing to Gail. "Funny, cause it's usually the other way around. But I just thought you should know." He continued walking towards the Restrooms, in the back.

Cas seized Crowley by the arm, and winked the King and Gail over to their house before Crowley could disappear.

"What was that young man talking about?" Crowley asked Gail coolly.

"I'm sure I have no idea," Gail said innocently. "He was probably drunk."

"Why am I here?" Crowley asked Cas suspiciously. He had tried to pop out as soon as they'd gotten here, but there was a Devil's Trap under his chair, and another one on the ceiling above him, for good measure. So, the Angels had set a trap for him. So much for diplomacy. "Is it torture then, Castiel?"

"If I was going to torture you, I wouldn't bring you to our home," Cas said calmly.

"Your home?!" Crowley exclaimed. He looked around the room. "I love what you've done with the place, sweetheart," he told Gail. Then he looked up at the ceiling, at the Devil's Trap. "Although, the paint job leaves something to be desired."

Cas and Gail exchanged glances. Now that they had the King of Hell at their mercy, if only momentarily, and under the influence, so to speak...what did they want to ask him? Apparently, the tooth was good for one truth, and one truth only. But what was the most important question at the moment?

Crowley's mind was working furiously now. What were these two after?

Gail put her hand on Cas's arm. "Let's talk for a minute," she said softly. She winked him outside, onto the back porch. "So, what's the million-dollar question?" she asked her husband.

He was frowning in concentration. "I don't know," he said. "I wish we could be assured of more than one truthful answer. There are so many things I would like to know: how many battalions he has, what kinds of weapons they will use, and whether he is considering a pre-emptive strike. There is so much information I need."

Gail's heart sank. "What about the diplomatic route? We haven't even spoken about that, yet."

"I don't want to waste my question on a fantasy," Cas said shortly. "He's about as interested in diplomacy as Lucifer was."

She let out a frustrated breath. "Ok, how's this, then? When we go back in there, we'll attempt to elicit as much information from him as we can, without asking him a direct question. Who knows? He might tell us some of the stuff you want to know, if we get him talking. You know how much he loves the sound of his own voice. In fact, I'll give him another drink. That'll probably loosen his tongue a bit more."

Cas nodded briefly. What she was saying made sense to him. So he popped them back into the house, and Gail made Crowley a drink from their bar. Cas snapped his fingers, and the glass transferred from Gail's hand to Crowley's.

"Well, well. Such hospitality," the King said dryly. But he took a sip, anyway. The damage had already been done, hadn't it? He waited patiently for the question, but no question was forthcoming.

Instead, Castiel said, "Tell me what you are thinking right now."

What a clever boy, the King thought. That must have been what that little pow-wow of theirs had been all about.

"Kudos to the both of you," Crowley said sardonically. "But you realize, of course, that I could just sit here and say nothing, thereby foiling your plan." He took another sip of his drink. "I won't do that, though. What fun would that be? And besides, everyone knows how I love to hear myself talk. Right, sweetheart?"

He looked at Cas then. "What am I thinking right now? Quite frankly, I'm thinking about what a first-class fool you are. Think about it, Castiel. You're God now. Finally. You should have the world by the tail. There you sit, in the highest office there is, with all of the power you have to do Good, and instead, you're preparing to wage war on me. When was the last time you visited Moose and Squirrel? You and your bride could go to the most romantic places in the world. Tahiti. Bora Bora. Oh, wait. She doesn't like the tropics, does she? How about Iceland, then? Did the two of you ever have a proper honeymoon? Yet you sit up there, acting like a tinpot dictator, ignoring those precious humans you rebelled for, and withholding physical affection from your wife. As the expression goes, Patricia must have really done a number on you. But then again, this whole situation is so...you, isn't it, Castiel? You have a singular talent for making lemons out of lemonade. In all my millennia of existence, I have never met an individual who is so eager to throw happiness away with both hands."

Then Crowley looked at Gail again. "It's hard to tempt the Almighty, isn't it? Believe me, far more malevolent entities than you have tried. You may have finally met your match, sweetheart. But I get the feeling that an eternity of piousness and celibacy isn't exactly your cup of tea. I could fix you up with any number of Demons who are experienced in, shall we say, the sensual arts. If your husband won't play ball, that's no reason for you to retire from the game, is it?"

"You're being disgusting, as usual," she said, rolling her eyes. "We're not here to talk about that, we're here to talk about you. You were the one who said he wanted to discuss a diplomatic solution, if I'm not mistaken." Phew. That had been close. She'd almost phrased that last part as a question. It was hard not to do.

Cas was finding that to be the case, as well. He was pursing his lips, angry at what Crowley had said. But, a part of him knew that the King of Hell was absolutely correct in everything he had said, too. Cas was slowly alienating all of his loved ones. He knew that. But he couldn't seem to make himself do anything about it.

"You don't want a diplomatic solution, do you, Castiel?" Crowley said coolly. "Look at you. I can read you like a book. Ask your bloody question, then, or that poor beast will have died in vain. I hope your wife will at least have gotten a pair of shoes or a nice handbag out of him."

Cas's heart sank. So, Crowley knew.

"You might have gotten away with it, too, if that young lad at the bar hadn't tattled," Crowley said calmly. "Ask your question, Castiel."

"All right, I will," Cas said angrily. "Did you really mean it when you said you wanted a diplomatic solution?"

"Actually, yes. Yes, I did," Crowley said. "I don't want a Holy War. Why would I? But, will I fight one? Absolutely, if I have to. But, if I had my druthers, I would prefer not. Who needs all of that bloodshed, and strife? Do you really want to put the lives of all of those young Angels who so inexplicably look up to you on the line? What for? So you can look like a hero? It's not worth it, Castiel. You seem to be forgetting something, here. If there is a Holy War, where do you suppose it will be fought? On Earth, that's where. All of those humans you love so much, caught up in the crossfire. And because you're such a fierce General, I would have no choice but to go for the jugular. That means that the first humans to go would have to be the Winchesters, and Frank and his family. How do you think your dear wife would feel about you then? So think very carefully before you start anything with me, Brother. Your wife is a very engaging woman, but I'm not above slitting her throat, if that's what I have to do to get your attention."

Crowley smashed his drinking glass on the chair he was sitting in. Then he popped out of the Devil's Trap. Gail looked down at the floor, seeing with dismay that the paint there was scratched. Then, she looked up at the one on the ceiling. Same thing. Dammit! He must have done that somehow when they'd briefly popped outside.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," Crowley said from behind her. He pulled her towards him, holding the biggest piece of broken glass to her throat. "But if your husband insists on violence, then violence is what he will get." He looked at Cas. "The next time, I will not exercise restraint." He slashed Gail's cheek with the shard of glass, and then popped out of the house.

The cut hurt, but she'd experienced much, much worse. The speed with which Crowley had turned the tables on them had been a little disconcerting, though.

Cas rushed forward and healed the cut on her cheek. He was fuming. "Now, do you see what type of individual he is?" he said angrily. "Surely, you cannot still think that there could ever be peace between our realms."

"You heard what he said, Cas. I admit, I relaxed my guard. But, he said he'll go after Sam and Dean, and Frank and Jody and the kids. We can't let that happen. And it's not just about us. What about all those young Angels you're training right now? Demons fight dirty, Cas. Do you really think that those naive young kids will be able to hold their own against that?"

"YOU did," he said shortly.

"Yes, with the help of three seasoned Hunters, and a lot of underhanded tactics," she retorted. "Do you really want to send guys like Efram out there to be sacrificial lambs to the Demons of Hell? What's wrong with you?"

"I just need a little more time with the cadets," Cas insisted stubbornly. "Riley advises they will be battle-ready in six months. Less, if we accelerate the program."

"Are you even hearing yourself right now?" Gail shouted. "Nobody wants this war but you! And you still haven't given me one good reason for it! So, Crowley's an evil ass, so what? We've always known that. I admit that sometimes I let my guard down around him, but that's my fault, Cas. I don't want anybody else to pay for my stupid mistakes. But please, let's talk about this some more. Once the first blood is drawn, there'll be no going back. You know that, sweetie. You know that. Please. Don't do this."

He stared down at her. She looked so forlorn. Didn't she realize that he was only doing this to protect her? To protect all of them?

"My word is The Word," Cas told her. He waved his hand and disappeared.

"Why won't anybody listen to me?" Gail exclaimed, stamping her foot in frustration.

"I'm listening to you, Kitten, I just don't know what you expect me to do," Gabriel said. He had shown up to the house as soon as she'd called, even though he'd had a pretty good idea of what she was going to say. "Your hubby is God now. The big cheese. The head honcho. His word IS the Word. That's it. Game over."

"He's going to declare a Holy War, Gabriel!" she said, agitated. "Do you know how many people are going to die because of that?"

Gabe's jaw dropped open. "He is not," he said, astonished.

"Oh, but he is," Gail said, making a face. "Do you want all those deaths on your hands? Cause I don't!"

Gabriel frowned. That was a sensitive subject for him. Obviously, Castiel had kept Gabriel's sad story to himself. "That's not fair, Gail. I don't want anyone to die."

"Well then, you'd better help me figure out what to do," she told him glumly. She sank down on the couch, and he sat beside her. Suddenly, her expression brightened. "I know! Why don't you just send us back in time?" she asked him.

"Yeah? And when would that be, exactly?" he said scornfully.

"Since before Patricia threw him in jail, and put that junk in his system," she said stubbornly. "In fact, why don't we just go back a bit further, and make sure she never wins the election?"

"Fine," Gabriel said irritably. "And exactly how do you think you're gonna do that? Do you know who those thirteen people were, who voted for Patricia over Cas?"

Gail let out a frustrated breath. Crap. He was right, but..."Okay, okay. How about just before Scott's murder, then? Maybe I could persuade Cas not to do it. Scream at the top of my lungs. Something."

"You're not thinking clearly, Gail," Gabriel said earnestly. "Even if that worked, that still wouldn't solve your Patricia problem. Even if he doesn't end up killing Scott in your office that day, she'll just trump something else up against him."

Gail was seething now. Everything he was saying made perfect sense, but she wasn't in the mood for logic. "OK, then let's just leave Cas out of it! Take ME back, then, to just before she was God, and I'll kill her myself!"

Gabe smirked. "Har, har. Very funny."

"Who's laughing?" she said angrily.

It dawned on him that she was completely serious. The Archangel shook his head. "No, Gail. You know that I can't be a party to anything like that," he said softly. "It's wrong, and you know it."

"So was what she did to Cas!" she fumed.

"I'm not arguing that," Gabriel said calmly. He took her hand. But you know that we can't do that, Gail," he told her.

She pulled her hand away from his. "Fine. Get out, then. You're useless to me. Don't ever talk to me again. I knew you didn't like Sam and Dean, but if you're willing to just sit by and let Crowley kill them, then don't bother to claim that you're our Brother. They're my brothers, too. And what about Frank, and his little baby? Either we're all family here, or none of us are. You obviously don't know what it's like to care about family, or to have loved ones, because you obviously only care about yourself."

"Is that so?" he said, gritting his teeth. "Is that what you think? Well, let me show you something." He grabbed her hand back, and slapped it on his forehead. "Come on in, then, and see how much I don't care about my family."

Gabriel showed her every excruciating moment of his relationship with Jennifer, and it's tragic and horrifying conclusion. He held nothing back. Then he removed her hand gently from his forehead and held it, and this time, she didn't pull away.

"I'm so sorry, Gabriel. I had no idea," she said softly. A couple of tears fell from the corners of her eyes, and he reached out and wiped them with his thumb, just like Cas would have done. And that made her cry even harder. "You should have just told me to keep my big, fat, stupid, fishwife yap shut."

Gabriel started to smile. "Can you give me a minute to write all of that down, for future reference?"

"Why didn't you tell me before?" she wailed. "All this time, I've been saying all these horrible things to you. I'm lucky you didn't just pop me one."

"As if I'd ever hit a woman," Gabriel said, rolling his eyes. "Look, Kitten, if what you're saying is true, and Cas is this bad, we'll think of something. But we're not going to go off the rails, and we're not going to go crazy, here. OK?"

Gail frowned. "Do you think Cas is nuts, Gabriel?"

He gave her a half-shrug. "Who's to say? Maybe he's the only sane one, out of all of us. We probably should have popped a cap in Crowley's ass centuries ago."

She looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "'Popped a cap in his ass'? Say hi to everybody in Compton for me, will you?"

Gabriel laughed. "There's my Kitten. Come here." He opened his arms and gave her a hug. Now, Gail felt like crying again. It had been ages since anyone had given her the simple comfort of a hug. Her own husband wouldn't even hold her hand any more.

"Besides, sanity is just the control of madness, or so they say," Gabriel told her in a gentle tone. "And I know whereof I speak, believe me."

She came out of the embrace. "Would you do me a favour, then? Teach me how to control it, 'cause I'm just about two steps away from losing all my marbles."

Suddenly, Cas appeared in front of them. "Gabriel," he said coolly. Then he looked at Gail. "I would like to talk to you, alone," he said to his wife.

"OK, OK. I know when I've been dismissed," Gabriel said, rising from the couch. He looked at Cas. "Don't you be too hard on my Kitten, or I'll be back, your Godship." Then, he winked out.

Cas moved slowly towards the couch, sitting down in the spot that Gabriel had just vacated. He was just staring at her, saying nothing. Gail couldn't quite tell what he was thinking. She waited, but still, he didn't speak.

"Well, I guess you caught us," she said lightly. "Gabriel and I are running away together. I find his obnoxiousness irresistible."

Was it her imagination, or did Cas's lips twitch, just for an instant? "You do realize that I have been able to see and hear you this whole time, do you not?" he said eventually.

Gail sighed. "OK. How angry are you, then? Are you going to yell at me now? Maybe smite me a little?"

Cas frowned. "Do you really think I'm crazy, Gail?"

She winced. It sounded so harsh when he said it out loud like that. But, just the fact that he was here asking her the question gave her hope. "I just think that what Patricia did to you messed with your mind. All this talk about war isn't you, Cas. I think she programmed that into you, just to screw with you. Please promise me you'll reconsider that whole thing, Cas. Please."

Cas looked at her face. After he had popped out of the house and gone back to Heaven, he had begun to think. There was something terribly wrong here. Like it or not, the King of Hell had given him a bit of a wake-up call. Cas SHOULD have the world by the tail right now. But, when was the last time that he had laughed, or even smiled for more than a millisecond? Gail had tried and tried to share a laugh with Cas, and then earlier today, she had been trading quips with a man who had later threatened to cut her throat, all because she could no longer do so with her own husband. For that matter, when was the last time that he and Gail had done anything together except to talk about war? She had gone to Earth by herself a few times when the board was not in session, but Cas had begged off every time, pleading work obligations. Because he had less time to spend with Gail, he had given her total autonomy to rewrite Heaven's new laws. But, even though she was doing that, he could tell that she was very unhappy. She had weakly joked that he should stop by one of the board meetings sometime, so she could finally teach him how to run that Power Point presentation. And then she had opened up her mouth as if she were about to say something else, but then she had closed it again. Perhaps she had thought about reminding him of the day that she had originally tried to show it to him, but then they had ended up spending several sweet hours in bed, instead. But she hadn't bothered, just like she didn't bother to ask him to go to Earth with her any more.

He looked down at her hand. It would be so easy to just reach out and take it in his, if only for a moment. She had asked him if he still loved her, ahd he had assured her that he did. But, when was the last time he had shown her even one ounce of actual affection? Every time he thought about touching her, or kissing her, the indoctrination he'd received at Patricia's hands started to bounce around in his head, telling him that it was wrong. But it wasn't just physical love with Gail that was causing him a problem. It seemed like any kind of love for anyone was off limits these days. Cas hadn't seen any of their family or friends since the day that Patricia had committed suicide. Carolyn had had her baby, and the only reason Cas even knew the infant's name was because Gail had told him. She had popped over to Vancouver briefly with some baby gifts from the both of them, sending Cas's love and regrets. Sam's birthday had been celebrated last week, and again, Gail had gone to the party, apologizing on Cas's behalf. But she had come back just a short time later, and she had been crying, telling Cas she was tired of being his apologist. If he was planning on missing the next special occasion, he could damn well apologize for himself. Then she had stormed into the bedroom of their suite, slamming the door, and he'd heard the TV go on. There weren't normally televisions in Heaven, of course, but he was God now, and he could work certain miracles. She had originally asked him to put it in there, hoping that they would cuddle and watch together, just like they had always done. But he was always working now, and besides, Cas was loath to lay in bed with her. He had actually tried, just once. But when he'd put his arms around her, her nearness had been so intoxicating that it had scared him, and he'd had to pop back out into the living room. She had followed, asking him what was wrong. But since he couldn't articulate it, he had merely used the excuse of work. She had strode angrily into the bedroom and slammed the door that night, too.

And now, he was obsessed with the idea of the Holy War. It was all that he had been able to think of. The war was necessary, and it would benefit everyone. He was sure of it. Gail was an intelligent woman, but in this case, she was being short-sighted. Due to her inexplicable tendency to let her guard down around Crowley, the King of Hell had escaped, threatening their entire family in the process. But, what was Cas supposed to do? Call off the war, just because innocents could die? Of course innocents could die. Such were the fortunes of war. But the fact that Gail was so adamantly against it should count for something, shouldn't it? Hadn't he told her numerous times that he placed her above all else? Was he too close to the situation to see it for what it really was? Or, was she?

"I have to go," Cas said now. He popped out of the living room as Gail stared disbelievingly at the empty space where he'd just been.

Dean was tossing and turning in his bed, dozing but not really sleeping. He had too much on his mind. The main thing was what was going on with Cas these days. Gail had shown up at Sam's birthday party all by herself again, making the usual excuses. Sam had said he understood, but Dean and Frank had both been mad. Then they'd had a bit too much to drink, and then they'd started hassling Gail. What the hell was going on with Cas? Nobody worked all the time, not even God, they'd said. Did he think he was too good to hang around with mere humans anymore? But Gail hadn't exactly been in the joking mood. She'd tried changing the subject, but they had kept after her. They all missed him too, and they didn't understand why they never saw him anymore. Finally, Gail had lost her temper, saying that she wasn't seeing all that much of Cas herself these days, and not to worry, they might be seeing plenty of Angels soon, once they found themselves in the middle of the Holy War Cas was planning. Then she'd started to cry, and then she'd popped out.

"What the hell is she babbling about?" Frank had demanded of Bobby, who was sitting on one of the library area chairs, giving Angela her bottle. Every time that Bobby came to Earth to see his friends, if Angela was in the vicinity, he made a beeline for her. If she was sleeping, he would tickle her, and then tell Jody that she'd woken up. Hey, what could he say? She knew her Grandpa, he would say, shrugging. Then he would pick Angela up and hold her, and offer to feed her. Bobby was making up for a lot of lost time. He'd missed a lot of family occasions when he'd been stuck in Heaven. Nowadays, he came down whenever he pleased. Cas had made the comment that Bobby was supposed to check with him before coming to Earth, but Bobby had scoffed at that notion, saying that Cas was just flexing his muscles. Cas knew that Bobby was going anyway, but he wisely let it go.

Bobby had frowned at Frank's question, but he filled the group in on what he knew of the activities in Heaven. Everyone had been puzzled by what they were hearing. Cas wanted to start a Holy War with Crowley? Why the hell would he do that, all of a sudden? Everything had been pretty peaceful on the Demon front; why stir up the hornet's nest now?

The general consensus was that Gail was being overly dramatic. They all knew how she was about Cas. Frank had rolled his eyes and said that his sister was probably just pissed off that she couldn't sit in Cas's lap in the High Office while he was working, and they had all laughed.

But Dean was uneasy. He remembered the discussion he'd had with Gail a while back, just the two of them, when she'd been adamant that Cas was crazy. The others were making light of the situation, but Dean wasn't sure it was so funny.

He rolled over on his side and opened his eyes, so he could punch his pillow into submission.

"Hello, Dean," Cas said calmly.

Dean jerked fully awake. "Cas! What the hell?" he exclaimed. "What are you doing? How long have you been here?"

"About an hour or so," Cas replied. "I was just waiting for you to wake up. I know you don't like to be disturbed when you're trying to sleep."

Dean sat up and turned on the bedside lamp, clutching at his chest. "Man, you almost gave me a heart attack," he said, but he was already starting to smile. "This takes me back. Remember? You used to do this all the time. Drove me nuts. But now, I almost miss it. We never see you anymore."

"I'm sorry for that, Dean," Cas remarked. He shifted in his chair. He had quietly pulled it up to Dean's bedside to begin his vigil. "I remember there was a time when we hardly saw each other at all. But, I wanted to talk to you now. I did not mean to scare you."

"You didn't scare me, not really, I just - " Dean swung his legs onto the floor, and now his and Cas's knees were touching, because Cas was sitting so close. "This takes me back, too," Dean said wryly. "Remember when I taught you about personal space?"

"Oh, yes," Cas said, nodding. "You used to say that I stood inappropriately close to you."

There was silence for a moment, and then Dean gestured from Cas to himself, and then back again. "OK, well, look at how you're sitting right now."

Cas looked down at the spot where their knees were touching, then back up at Dean's face. Dean waited as patiently as he could.

"Oh," Cas finally said. "Personal space. Right." He moved his chair back an inch or so, and Dean shook his head slowly. Unbelievable. But he had really missed his friend, and he wanted to move the conversation along, so he said, "There ya go, buddy. Now, what did you want to talk to me about?"

Cas was silent for another moment, and then he said, "I can't remember what it feels like to be me anymore, Dean. And, what's worse, I can't remember who Gail and I are together."

Aw, geez, Dean thought. Here we go. But at least Cas was trying to communicate. That was definitely a start. "What the hell's going on with you, Cas?" he said wearily. "Gail says you're gonna start a Holy War with Crowley." Cas said nothing, so Dean went on, "The other day, I was talking to Rob, and you know what he said to me? He wanted to know where we were going to take Angela and Peter, to hide them during the fighting. And then, he told me to tell you that he was ready to fight, if you needed him to."

Cas looked at him, startled. "Rob wants to fight? But, he's - "

Dean nodded. "Yep. But you're his hero, Cas. He talks about you all the time, now. He says you're God, and God knows best." Dean sighed. "You know that me and Sammy and Frank and Jody would follow you through the Gates of Hell if you asked us to. If you told me right now that you needed me to pick up a blade and go kill Crowley, I'd do it in a heartbeat, because it's you. You're my best friend, Cas, and I trust you implicitly. But, I'll tell you what: if you're gonna start another Armageddon, you'd better have a damn good reason. 'Cause if you're putting those kids in danger because of some ancient vendetta between you and Crowley, or because he looked cross-eyed at your wife a couple of times, you and I are gonna have a problem, and I don't care if you ARE God."

Once again, Cas said nothing. But suddenly, he reached out and took Dean's hand. Funny; he couldn't take his own wife's hand, but he could take Dean's. "You've been such a wonderful friend to me," Cas told him. "You always have been."

Dean let Cas hold his hand for a moment, and then, he gently extricated himself. "OK, Cas," he said. "You're just making it weird, now. Guys don't do stuff like this. Ever."

"But Dean, that's how Angels express affection," Cas told him.

"Fine. Then, go up to Heaven and hold your wife's hand," Dean said gruffly. "Ordinarily, I wouldn't stick my nose in, but she tells me that you guys haven't 'held hands' in a long time. She's pretty grouchy about it, too."

Cas frowned. "But that's just it, Dean. When I take her hand, I feel something different than when I take your hand."

"I sure hope so," Dean wisecracked. But then, his forehead wrinkled. "What's the problem, Cas? Talk to me, buddy."

"Whenever I am close to Gail, I feel as if I want to touch her, and kiss her," Cas said quietly.

"That's OK, Cas. There's nothing wrong with that," Dean explained, as if he was talking to a child. Wow. Gail had told him about this, but Dean had thought that she was exaggerating. "You guys are in love. You do that kind of stuff all the time."

"It's a Sin," Cas said harshly.

"Who told you that?" Dean asked him. "Patricia? Gail's your wife, Cas. Guys like you get married just so you can have a license to do what comes naturally to the rest of us." He smirked, waiting for a reaction. But this version of Cas wasn't taking the bait. He was just sitting there, staring at Dean expressionlessly. Raising being inscrutable to a whole new level.

Finally, Dean sighed. "I remember you, standing here in this bunker, telling us we had to rescue Gail from Crowley's den, not because it was the right thing to do, but because...uh, how did you put it, again?"

"'Because I love her, Dean. I love her with every form and fibre of my being'," Cas replied automatically.

Dean's smirk changed into a genuine smile. "Yeah. That. And do you remember what I said to you?"

"Yes, I do," Cas answered.

"Good, because I don't," Dean said. "What DID I say?"

"You rolled your eyes, and told me to cut out the chick-flick crap," Cas responded.

"Oh," Dean said. "Well, I admit that does sound like me. OK, then, how about when we were all together in Vegas for the first time? You were getting ready in our room for your date with Gail. What did you say to me then?"

"I told you that I had never been intimate with a woman before, and that I was afraid she couldn't possibly love me the way that I loved her," Cas said.

"OK, and what did I say then?"

"You rolled your eyes and said that people had been having sex since the beginning of time, and to get over myself and be a man," Cas replied.

"Oh," Dean said again, frowning. Then after a moment, he added, "I'm kind of a dick sometimes, aren't I?"

"Yes," Cas answered promptly. As Dean's frown deepened, Cas continued, "But I also remember what you said to me on my wedding day. You said that, besides Sam, mine and Gail's love was the one constant that you could always rely on. You said that our relationship represented hope to you. Then you called me a lucky bastard, and embraced me."

"There you go," Dean said happily. "Now, does any of that sound like a sin to you?"

"No," Cas said thoughtfully. "No, it does not."

"That's because it isn't," Dean said firmly. "Now, give your head a shake, and go see your wife. Like the old expression goes: 'Make love, not war.' And, Cas?"

"Yes, Dean?"

"Congrats on being God," Dean said sincerely. "I'm proud of you."

The two men looked at each other for a moment, and then Dean said, "Now, get lost. I'm trying to sleep." He laid back down on the bed and pulled the covers over himself. Cas smiled and turned off the lamp, and then he winked himself away.

"I must go away from here," Cas said formally.

"What? Where? For how long?" Gail asked him. She was utterly bewildered. He had just popped into their suite in Heaven. She'd gone up there after he'd disappeared from their house on Earth. Now he was back, with no word about where he had been, or where he was planning to go.

"Do not tell anyone that I am gone," he continued, ignoring her questions. "Crowley cannot know; otherwise, he may strike while I am away. I will be off the grid, as the expression goes. But I will leave our Originals frequency on, in case you need to contact me urgently. But please, do not call me unless it is an emergency. I need quiet contemplation right now."

He slipped his blazer off and draped it over the arm of the couch. Then he reached into the inside pocket and pulled out his blade. He waved his hand over it, and it glowed bright white for a moment. Then he extended it to Gail. "Take it. I have put the powers of the Office into it. The moment you touch it, you will be God, pro tem, until I return. Do whatever you need to do in my absence. Whatever you decide, I will support you. But I need to do this, Gail. I need to get myself right. I am wrestling with many matters of conscience and morality right now."

"Can I do anything to help you, sweetie? Anything at all?" she asked him.

"No," he said shortly, but his voice was gentle. "Just stay safe. We will talk again, upon my return."

He extended the blade to her again, and this time, Gail took it. There was a blinding flash of white light, and then, when Gail could see again, Cas was gone.

VIGNETTE - SHUT UP AND DRIVE

Gail waited a week, but Cas hadn't returned, and she hadn't heard from him. As near as she had been able to figure, he had gone on some kind of a religious retreat, or something. Maybe that was a good thing. He had said he needed to "get himself right". Maybe that meant that he had finally realized that there was something wrong with him. He wouldn't have gone ahead and checked himself into a mental hospital, would he? Then she remembered that he had transferred his Godly powers to her, so she sent out The Eye, but he was nowhere to be seen. Nowhere. She sighed. He wouldn't have made it that easy for her, would he? Then again, if he needed quiet time to think, shouldn't she just give him that? But then, her blood ran cold. He'd also said that he was wrestling with matters of conscience, and morality. What if he decided that he didn't want to live with her anymore? He still thought that any kind of physical contact with her was a sin. So it wouldn't be a giant leap for him to conclude that they shouldn't be staying in the same quarters, then, would it? It didn't seem to matter that they were married; any and all physical expressions of affection had been taken off the table. Gail supposed she would have to deal with her own feelings on the matter soon, if things remained status quo. Could she be married to a man who refused to show her the slightest bit of affection, even as far as not even holding her hand? Even when she and Cas had been celibate, he had always been happy to hold her hand, or give her a hug, or even a chaste kiss. But when was the last time he had done any of those things? She honestly couldn't remember any more. Would she be able to stand it if things remained that way for all of eternity? But, honestly, what was the alternative? Not to be with Cas at all? She might as well stop breathing, while she was at it.

Curiousity got the better of her for a moment, and she played around with The Eye for a bit. It was so weird, being able to look in on everyone this way. She peeked in on all the Angel Academies, just to try it out. She found that she could look at each classroom individually, or all of them at once, sort of like the ultimate picture-in-picture technology. Wow. Imagine all the sports fans who would love to be able to do this, especially during baseball or football season. Then she frowned. All of those young Angels, being trained how to fight. Self-defense was one thing, but war for war's sake was quite another. Hopefully, Cas was thinking about that on his retreat.

She peeked into the library and saw Chuck and Laurel, talking about Chuck's latest reworking of the script for the new Supernatural movie. When they had all been banned from contact with Earth by Patricia, Richard had been forced to go ahead and hire a new screenwriter. But Nicole had advised Dean that the scripts he had produced hadn't been very good, and the actors weren't pleased with them. And Cas might have a few bees buzzing around in his bonnet right now, but as soon as he had become God, Chuck had asked him if it was OK if Chuck called Richard to see if he could resume writing for the movie, and Cas had said yes. So Chuck was currently asking Laurel's opinion on some additional scenes he was thinking of adding to the script. Sam and Dean hadn't solved a case involving a vengeful spirit in ages, he was telling her. They'd been so wrapped up in the Tablet missions that they hadn't done much monster-hunting lately. Maybe it was time to go back to their roots. What did she think? Laurel smiled and said that whatever Chuck wrote, she was sure that she would love, and then they kissed. Gail looked away quickly after that. In a way, it was ironic; Chuck used to watch her and Cas, back when he had been battling his darker impulses. But Gail had no interest in voyeurism, although she was very happy that Chuck and Laurel had found romance with each other.

Then, just for the hell of it, Gail looked at Frank's house, just to see what was going on. If he was there, maybe she would go down there for a while, just to visit. Who knew how long Cas was going to be away? And if she just sat here waiting for him, she'd go nuts.

Gail saw Dean and Rob, standing on the sidewalk outside the house. What were they doing?

"Now, if I agree to do this, you've gotta make sure you listen to everything I say, and do everything I tell you," Dean said to Rob sternly. "OK?"

"Yeah, I know, Uncle Dean," Rob replied. "I just appreciate you doing it. Dad gave up on me. He said I was making his hair greyer."

"I didn't think that was possible," Dean said, smirking. "Here he comes now. It's about time."

Frank came driving up in the Charger. He parked it at the curb in front of the house and got out. "Let me guess. He's roped you into it, now," Frank said to Dean.

His friend shrugged. "Hey, every guy has to learn how to drive sometime. Rob said you were freaking him out."

Frank smirked. "I probably was. Oh, well. He's your problem now. You know what they say, Winchester. Those who can't do, teach."

Dean opened his mouth, preparing to say something that Rob probably shouldn't hear, when a voice from behind him said, "Will you teach me, too?"

Dean turned around to see Gail standing there. She had winked herself to Frank's back yard so she wouldn't be seen by any of the neighbours, and then she had walked down the driveway.

Frank's smirk widened. "You've gotta be kidding me with this. YOU want to learn how to drive? Why? Can't you just zap yourself anywhere you want to go?"

"Yeah, but...you all drive," she retorted. "Even Cas drives. Why shouldn't I learn how?"

Frank shrugged. "No reason, I guess. But I'm not letting you anywhere near the Pookmobile. My insurance rates are high enough, as it is. You can pop these guys over to that house you never use, and take that car you guys never drive. That way, when you have your first fender-bender, my premiums won't go up." He looked at Dean. "I'll pray for you, buddy. It's a good thing she can heal you guys, 'cause you're gonna need it. Actually, we might have to go higher up the food chain, depending on how catastrophic the damage is. How is Cas, anyway? Still keeping his nose to the brimstone?"

"Good one, Dad," Rob said, sticking his hand up for a high-five.

"Ahhh, it's not gonna be that bad," Dean said, shrugging. "All they need is a good teacher."

"Really? Why don't you teach them how to drive in the Impala, then?" Frank retorted.

"Shut up, Frank," Dean shot back.

Gail was laughing. This was what she had missed, right here. She put her arms around Frank's waist, giving her brother a hug. "I love you, you big poopyhead," she told him.

"Yeah, yeah," he grumbled good-naturedly. "You're just sucking up now so I'll stick up for you later, when you have to tell the Almighty that you wrecked his car." He hugged her back, looking at Dean. "Take good care of my kid, but don't take any crap from him, either. And feel free to keep these two occupied for a while. I'm gonna go inside and see if I can get a little sugar from my wife, in-between feedings."

"Ewwww," Gail and Rob said simultaneously, and they all laughed.

"Jinx. You owe me a beer," Dean said, and they looked at him. "That's not right," Rob said. "Either me or Aunt Gail was supposed to say that. Right, Dad?"

"Wrong," Dean said cheerfully. "Cause you're both gonna owe me a beer and a burger, once the lesson is over."

"Well, good luck," Frank said. Then he turned around and started walking towards the house. He'd meant what he had said. It was so seldom that he and Jody got to spend any uninterrupted time together that he meant to take full advantage. "'Later," he said over his shoulder.

Gail was smiling again. She hoped her brother and Jody were able to get some alone time. That couldn't be too easy, with a teenager and a little baby in the house. She poked Dean. "Drive us to my house," she said to him.

A couple of hours later, they were at the diner. Dean was already on his second beer, Rob was having a strawberry milkshake, and Gail was sipping at a glass of wine.

"Wow," she was saying. "I can't believe we're all still alive." Dean gave her a look, and she added, "You know what I mean."

"I can't believe it, either," Dean said grumpily. "How in the hell can such a smart person not be able to tell the difference between the gas pedal and the brake pedal?"

"You shouldn't talk about Rob like that," she quipped, trying to look innocent.

"Oh, har, har," Dean retorted. "It's a good thing I have your husband The Lord on speed dial, 'cause I thought for sure that he was gonna have to come down and scrape us all off the highway."

"Don't be so dramatic, Dean," she said, making a face. "It wasn't that bad. I just don't know why the gas can't be for the right foot, and the brake for the left foot. That way, each foot has a job. The way you were showing me, you use the right foot for everything, and the left foot just sits there, with nothing to do."

Dean rolled his eyes. Unbelieveable. "If your car was a stick, I think I would have had you just run me over, instead," he said, shaking his head slowly. He looked across the table at Rob, who was sipping at his milkshake and trying not to grin. "You're doing good, though," Dean said to Frank's son. "I'll teach YOU anytime."

"That's OK, my driving career is officially over," Gail said. "I don't like driving. I don't know what you guys see in it. I'd rather just travel the usual way, or else let Cas do it."

"How is he, anyway?" Dean asked her. He hadn't seen Cas since that night he and his friend had had their talk, a talk that Dean hadn't told anyone about, not even Sam.

Gail shrugged. "The same," she said noncommittally. "Busy." Cas had instructed her not to tell anyone what was going on, and he'd been very stern about it.

"I pray to him every night," Rob said suddenly, licking his straw.

Gail looked at the boy. "You do?" she said, surprised.

"Yeah, of course I do," Rob said. "But, I don't ask him for stuff. I know that's wrong. I just ask him to keep everybody safe, and I tell him I sleep better now, knowing that he's running Heaven."

"You realize it's really your Aunt Gail who's running Heaven, right?" Dean said, smirking.

Gail nearly spat out her mouthful of wine. Then she realized: it was just Dean giving her a hard time, as usual.

Rob was smiling. "That's OK, Uncle Dean. My mom rules our house, too. She said everybody knows the woman is the one who's really in charge of the marriage."

"See, that's why I never got married," Dean told the youth.

"Really?" Rob retorted. "My Dad said that's because nobody but Uncle Sam could stand to live with you for that long."

Dean looked at him, did a double-take, and then looked at Gail. "Are you gonna let him get away with that? How come everybody in your family has to be a smartass?"

Rowena rolled her eyes. She was sitting in the booth right behind theirs, but Gail and Dean's backs were to her, and she had her black wig on. She'd been amazed when the three of them had come walking in here. What a stroke of luck. So she was sitting with her back to their table, listening to their conversation. So far they hadn't said anything particularly earth-shattering. She'd known that Castiel was God now, because Raguel had known. That fact had perturbed Rowena. It was certainly going to be a lot harder for her to screw around with the couple now.

"I did want to ask you something serious, if that's OK, Aunt Gail," Rob went on. "I know it might not be any of my business, but why are we going to fight a Holy War with Crowley?"

Rowena just about slid right out of the booth. Out of the mouths of babes. Although, to be entirely accurate, this particular "babe" was tall and gangly now, with a deepening voice and looking like he was in need of a shave. How time flew.

Rowena opened her ears wide, holding her breath. "You shouldn't say stuff like that when we're out in public," Dean admonished the teen. "You never know who could be listening."

Too right, Rowena thought, smiling to herself.

"OK, Uncle Dean. I get it. But we hardly see Gail any more, and we never see Cas. One time, he told me never to fight unless I had a good reason for doing it. So, what's his reason?" Rob persisted.

Dean was looking at Gail now. He wanted an answer to that particular question, too. Cas had evaded the question like a son of a bitch when he'd come to see Dean that night.

Gail was uncomfortable. "I don't know why you're asking ME that," she said evasively. "You should be asking HIM. Besides, there might not even BE a war. It's only...a theory, right now."

Rowena's mind was racing. It was obvious to her what was going on here: Castiel wanted to wage war on Hell, and Gail didn't agree. But because Gail wasn't God, and Castiel was, his wishes would prevail. But, this was interesting; Gail had always been able to use her wiles to get Castiel to do whatever she wanted, before. Had the Angel's promotion come with a backbone included? Rowena took a moment's indulgence to picture Castiel coming to her hotel room, ordering her to get down on her knees and worship him. She didn't ordinarily go in for things like that; if anything, Rowena was usually the dominant one in most relationships. Look at her and Chuck, for example. She had made him squeal like the pig that he was. But, Chuck was weak. Rowena was attracted to assertive, Alpha men. Well, you couldn't get much more Alpha than God, could you? She had aligned herself with Raguel because he more or less fit the Alpha bill, but he was so sour-faced, and unattractive. Castiel, on the other hand...she could definitely work with that. If he wasn't too righteous, that was. She wouldn't particularly mind getting down on her knees for him, as long as he would do the same for her, afterwards. And if he would just put a little divine power into his ministrations, so much the better. Her eyes hadn't rolled back into her head for quite a while.

She shook herself out of her reverie, throwing a couple of bills onto the table. She needed to go and talk to Raguel about this. He was off on one of his research missions, but she could use a summoning spell. He was going to want to hear about this. There had to be a way they could use the notion of a Holy War to their advantage.

Rowena got up and walked right past her enemies, and they never had a clue. Before Raguel had left for Europe, he had shielded her. He knew that Gabriel was still sniffing around, and now that Castiel was God, Raguel had deduced that she could probably use the protection that only an Archangel could provide. So, Gail had sat back-to-back with Rowena, and never even sensed her presence.

Rowena sauntered out of the diner.

VIGNETTE - DESERT PRAYERS

Another week passed, then another, and Cas was really suffering now. Extreme temperatures had never really bothered him before, one way or the other. But he had been wandering the desert for nearly a month now, and it was the beginning of the hot season. The temperature rose as soon as the sun did, and almost immediately, it was scorching hot. Then, the instant the sun went down, his teeth began to chatter.

He had come here right after talking with Gail, and conferring his Godly powers upon her. At the moment, he was a strange hybrid of Angel and human. He'd wanted to be more human than anything, because he'd needed to suffer the trials that he'd suffered these past couple of weeks. So he'd wandered and wandered, lost deep in thought, alternately frying in the desert heat of the daytime, or curled up in a ball at night, if he needed to rest.

Mostly, though, he'd kept moving. Because he was mainly human, Cas felt hunger and thirst, but he denied himself sustenance. You couldn't suffer tribulations with a full belly and a tall, cold glass of iced tea in your hand. And he'd also felt the need for sleep, but he had been denying himself that, as well. The more tired he was, the more likely he would be to have the kinds of visions that were required for an epiphany.

And he'd had plenty of visions so far, hallucinations that Cas was sure were designed to teach him a few lessons. But either he was a slow learner, or his trials were not yet concluded. Maybe he was destined to wander for 40 days and 40 nights. He was nearing that point now, he felt sure. Well, it would be an extremely Biblical thing to do, anyway.

At first, his struggles had been insular. Cas was his own worst enemy right now, so that only stood to reason. He had been walking and walking, having an internal dialogue. He was God. He was an Angel. He was a screw-up. He was a man.

Then, as his grasp on reality began to wane, he started to appear in front of himself as his different personae. He was Abel, the meek shepherd, whose needs had been simple. Actually, this scenario was almost like those days, Cas thought with some humour, except that the poor sheep would have been just as hungry as he was here in the desert, with no grass to eat. Abel had said nothing; he'd just walked with Cas for a bit. Then Abel disappeared, and Castiel the Angel took his place. Castiel looked at Cas, head tilted, as if he were some kind of a new and interesting species of insect. That look was familiar, Cas thought wryly. That was how he himself used to look at the Winchesters, and Bobby, and all of the humans he'd met when he had first come here. There was so much he hadn't understood about human behaviour and custom back then. Cas had had other existences as a human in the past, of course, but Castiel, Angel of the Lord, had not. But, eventually, he had begun to learn, and then he had begun to love, and by the time he had been absorbed into his human family, Castiel had been absorbed into Cas, and they were now one and the same.

After a while, Castiel disappeared, and Cas walked on. He continued to think. He had always been primarily concerned with what his mission was, ever since he had begun to serve Heaven. Sometimes, it had been clear. Rescuing Dean from Hell, eradicating Lucifer. Those missions had been noble and honourable, and he had been proud to have been chosen to accomplish them. But other times, the morals behind his so-called missions had been very questionable. Following orders, but not knowing why. Being told not to ask why, because he was supposed to follow orders. Humans called that a "Catch-22", and it was enough to drive one crazy.

Cas had always thought that his missions were his Father's Will, but he had been dismayed to find out that was not always the case. True, his Father had been stern sometimes, and if an old-fashioned Biblical punishment was warranted, his Father was only too glad to oblige. But the bottom line was that God the Father had always been mainly about love. Many people didn't understand that. How could God test people, and punish them, yet claim to love them? But Cas understood. His Father loved him very much indeed. That was why He had sometimes made Cas's existence a living Hell. Because He loved him so much.

But Cas was God now, wasn't he? So then, what was his problem?

And then, the parade of other people started, people who had absolutely no compunctions about telling Cas what his problems were, and pointing out that they were numerous. His brother Cain appeared, telling him that everything that had happened from Creation on had been his fault. They'd been a perfectly happy little family, until Abel had come along. He should never even have been born.

And therein lay the problem: at his core, in his deepest heart of hearts, a part of Cas had always believed that Cain was right. Everything HAD been fine before he had been born. But he hadn't asked to be born, had he? There must be a reason for his existence, though, and he found it hard to believe that his Father had brought him into the world just to mess up Cain's life. Maybe God had brought Abel into being to serve as a living example of the adage that the meek would one day inherit the Earth, but it certainly seemed like that particular homily was taking quite a while to kick in.

"You got that right, Brother," Lucifer said, grinning. He was sitting on a huge rock up ahead, petting a scorpion. "You have to be a dick to get what you want in this life. Come on, Cas. You know that. You rebelled against Heaven, and look where it's gotten you. You've got the world at your feet. You've got humans who would pick up arms and follow you into battle, without question. Even the young kids, like Rob. You're gonna be like the Pied Piper of Death, Cas. It'll be great. Personally, I think you're going about this God thing the wrong way, though. You've got a sweet little wife at home who's more than good to go, and here you are, wandering around the desert like Lawrence of freaking Arabia, or something. By all means, wage war with Crowley. Get a bunch of innocents killed. That's your specialty, isn't it? But, do me a favour. Please. I'm begging you. For...well, Your - sake, go home and stick it in your wife, before she decides that Gabriel's the better option. I always hated that guy. Or she could slum it, and pop into Sam or Dean's room one night. Sam and Quinn are pretty hot and heavy right now, but you know THAT'S not gonna last. It's hard to date a psychic. They know way too much about you. For instance, she knows Sammy's still in love with your wife, but she's trying to overlook it. And then, there's Dean. His girlfriend's traipsing all over the world, having a career. He needs her way more than she needs him. But, Dean is Dean. Sooner or later, he's gonna be looking for some nookie, and if you can't be with the one you love, love the one you're with, right, Cas? Did you know that your wife had a little heart-to-heart with your ol' buddy Dean recently? She told him she thinks you're crazy, and she was considering going to Crowley for help. Actually, if I thought our Brother had any discernible kind of sexuality, I'd warn you about HIM. But when it comes to Gail, it seems like Crowley's been all show and no go. Just like me. I guess I shoulda hit that when I had the chance. If I was real, I'd go over there now, and do it to her myself."

Lucifer looked down at the scorpion he was holding. "Hungry, Brother?" he said to Cas. He held his palm out flat, and the scorpion turned into a plate with a steak, potatoes, and vegetables on it. Then he snapped his fingers, and he was holding a tall glass of ice water in his other hand. Cas could hear the ice cubes tinkling in the glass, and he could see the beads of condensation on it. It was so hot here. He hadn't had anything to drink in days. His throat was parched, and his lips were cracked.

"Come on, Cas, don't be such a martyr, already. Just have a teeny-tiny sip of water. No strings attached, I promise," Lucifer cajoled.

Cas made a harsh sound in his throat. Yeah, right. The Devil was suddenly an altruist. Sure. "We got rid of you in Madagascar. Get thee behind me, you ass."

He walked on. Then, it was Xavier, who was trying to tell Cas that Cas had tortured him, and then sent him to Hell.

"Nice try," Cas scoffed. "None of that ever happened, and you know it. You and Alexander and Lanister went to Hell because you were bad people."

"Oh, and you're such a saint?" Xavier said sarcastically. "Were we at the same tribunal?"

"I've learned from my mistakes," Cas insisted.

"Really? Because from everything I'm hearing, you're about to declare a Holy War," Xavier said dryly. "Of course, you probably think that's OK, because this time you'll have others to do the killing for you. If there's no blood on your blade, you aren't responsible, right, Castiel? I don't suppose you've ever heard of Charles Manson, have you? Crowley has him down here, teaching school."

Cas was speechless. Was Xavier actually comparing him to Charles Manson? WAS he Charles Manson?

"I'll save you a spot down there, Castiel," Xavier told him. "Maybe you could teach a class of your own." Then he disappeared.

Cas was stumbling now, exhausted from his walk, dehydrated and lightheaded. The Father was humbling him now. Reminding him that he was a screw-up. As if he needed the reminder.

"So it's come to this, has it?" Crowley said coolly. "Now you think you're Jesus Christ, wandering in the desert. And to what purpose, Cas? So you can convince yourself that your existence has significance? What about if I told you that it doesn't? Maybe you should just lay down and die here, and let the vultures eat you. Your wife is God now, and she'll be a good one. Kind and benevolent, but she won't take any guff from me, that's for sure. And, the Summit meetings we could have? What do the young kids say these days? 'Legendary'. No one needs you around, Castiel. No one."

"Don't listen to him, my Son," God said. Cas had staggered over to where Crowley stood, perhaps meaning to strike him. But God the Father had suddenly appeared, and now Cas fell to his knees, half in exhaustion, and the other half in supplication.

Crowley frowned. He snapped his fingers as if to disappear, but nothing happened.

"My Sons," God remarked. "Ruler of Heaven, and ruler of Hell, the two most important domains. What a proud moment this should be for me. Too bad you're both behaving like spoiled children."

He looked at Crowley. "When will you ever learn? The Seven Deadly Sins are deadly for a reason, you know. You have always been jealous of your younger brother, if for no other reason than that he had the temerity to be born. Who made YOU the King of the Universe? Last time I looked, that would be Me. You only continue to exist because I have a sentimental attachment to my original creations. And I have to admit, there have been times when I have been proud to call you my Son. But, I'll tell you something: if you ever hold a piece of broken glass to my Daughter's throat again, I will not hesitate to rain down all the powers of the Righteous upon you. You owe her an apology. I have half a mind to declare Holy War on you Myself. You've got some nerve. If I were you, I wouldn't alienate this branch of your family, Crowley. Even now, your own mother schemes against you. Now, be gone."

God waved His hand, and Crowley disappeared in a puff of smoke. Then He turned to Cas. "And, you. Look at you. You finally achieve the High Office after all these years, and what do you do? Thumb your nose at everything I've taught you. You form armies, and keep all your loved ones at arm's length. After all that separation, and all that torment that Patricia put you and Gail through, you reward my Daughter's loyalty and stubbornness on your behalf by telling her that loving her is a Sin. Your own wife. Incidentally, there's more to Patricia's situation than meets the eye. But, I'll let you find out about that yourself, when it's appropriate. But right now, we have to get you back to yourself. I'm not saying that what Patricia did to you was right. Far from it. But you can't worry about that, my Son. You have to look at yourself, and realize that you're enough. Do you understand, Cas? You're enough."

Cas was crying now, which was amazing, considering that he didn't feel like he had one drop of moisture left in his body. He felt as dry and desiccated as the tumbleweeds that were blowing around in the desert.

"Are you sure, Father?" Cas pleaded.

"Wow," God said, his lips twitching. "If you can't believe God, who can you believe? All right, maybe you'll believe this little lady, then. She's been waiting very patiently to talk to you."

God waved His hand, and Gail suddenly appeared at His side. She looked up at Him. "How are you, Father? How's retirement? What does God DO when He retires, anyway?" Then she shrugged. "Anything He wants, I guess."

God smiled. He had always liked Gail's sense of humour, and the fact that she had always been respectful of Him without being frightened of Him. "How have you been, my Daughter?" he asked her, smiling gently. "I see your family is expanding. Little Angela is very cute. She looks like you did, when you were that age."

Gail smiled shyly. "Thank you for the compliment," she said to him.

God looked at Cas again. His Son was still on his knees, and he was looking at Gail with an expression of longing. "Let Me tell you what your mission is, Castiel, and then I will leave the two of you to talk alone. Your mission is to regain Paradise for those who have lost it, my Son. That includes yourself. And you can start by getting back on the path, and loving your wife and your Brothers and Sisters, both Angel and human. No one wants war, Castiel. I thought I taught you better than that. How does that song go, Gail?"

"Song? Oh, you mean: 'War! Huh! What is it good for? Absolutely nothing, say it again'," Gail sang, and God threw back his head and laughed. "Yes! That one!" He said delightedly. "That's always been one of my favourites. That one, and 'FunkyTown'."

Gail's mouth dropped open, and then she laughed and laughed. "Thanks, I needed that," she told Him.

"Please be patient with my Son," God said to her. "We all know his heart is in the right place, but sometimes, his feet tend to wander a bit." He looked down at Cas. "I never wanted Angels to dress in sackcloth and ashes, and I never wanted whoever sat in My chair to be a humourless old fuddy-duddy. It took centuries of cultivation, but you're finally the right combination, Cas. Sweet and sour, dark and light, Angel and human. If there is a reason for you to go through trials, believe me, Castiel, you will go through some trials. But right now should be a time for celebration. I have passed on the family business to you, my Son, and that business primarily consists of love. It has always been so."

Cas looked up at his Father with admiration. This was God the Father at His finest. If only people who were depressed and in despair could see Him now, they would know that the Creator of all things had created love first, because without love, there could be nothing else. How could Cas have forgotten that?

God put His hand on His Son's head. "I can see you're starting to get it now," God said in a gentle voice. "So, as a reward, you can have one thing from Me, the thing you want the most at this moment. What will it be, my Son?"

Cas started to weep again, salty tears that he could not afford to shed. He was so dehydrated now that he feared he wouldn't be able to speak. But he cleared his throat and said, "Will you please send Gail a sign, something to assure her that I still love her? I think she may believe that's not the case anymore. She has been so patient with me, but I fear her patience is reaching its limits. And, who could blame her? I let myself get influenced by external forces, and by the powers of the Office. I was Prideful, and I thought I was being Righteous. But Gail said I was being an ass."

God smiled. "That's my Daughter," He said softly. Then, he turned to Gail. "And you, dear? You get one, too. What would YOU like most of all right now?"

She stretched out her hand, and a moment later, she was holding a canteen filled with water. She moved forward quickly and got down on her knees beside her husband, offering it to him. Cas took it from her, clasping her hands in his for a moment as the transfer was made. Of all of the things she could have asked for...was it any wonder he loved her with his whole heart and soul? Cas took a long drink from the canteen, then another, and then he upended it over his head, pouring the remainder of the cold water on himself. That was the best feeling, because it had felt like a baptism. Though he probably should have saved a bit more water to drink.

Gail looked up at God. "That canteen is bottomless, isn't it, Father?" she said hopefully.

He raised an eyebrow. "I don't believe you specified that, when you requested it."

"I would respectfully ask that you not hold that tiny little boo-boo of mine against my husband," she answered charmingly, and then, she tried a smile on for size. "Can we just call it my belated birthday present, then? I didn't even get a cake this year. And let's face it, Christmas really sucked, too."

God was silent for a moment, and then He shook his head, smiling slowly. "As the expression goes, I was definitely on my game the day I created you, my Daughter." He waved his hand towards the canteen and said, "There. Unlimited water." Then he put one hand on Cas's head and the other on Gail's, smiling warmly at the couple. "You see, this is why you two are my favourites. At the risk of stating the obvious, I offered you both the gift of anything. Anything at all. And what did you do? Castiel asked Me to communicate his love for you, his wife, and Gail, you asked Me for life-sustaining water for your husband. And that, in a nutshell, is the family business. Need I say more?"

Cas and Gail were looking at each other. No. He didn't need to say more. Their Father was absolutely right.

"I love you, my darling," Cas said to her, and she responded, "Please come back soon, Cas, but please don't come back until you're sure about who you are, and what you want to do. I'll be waiting. I don't need a sign. I know how I feel about you, Cas. I have always loved you, and I always will. No matter what. I made you a vow, and I expect you to hold me to it." She gave him a little smile.

"We have to go now, Gail," God said gently. "We have to let Castiel work this out on his own."

She looked at Cas once more. He hadn't taken his eyes off of her, but he hadn't been able to speak to her, either. The sight of his wife here in the desert, even though he knew she wasn't really here, had acted upon him just as the cold water had. Thanks to her, he was no longer thirsty or even hungry, and his head was clearer than it had been in weeks. His throat closed. How could he ever express his gratitude to her? How could he ever find the words to tell her about the depth of his feelings for her.

God sighed. "All right. Just one more. I agree; the two of you had a terrible Christmas. The next one will be much better, I promise." He waved his pinky finger, transferring Cas's thoughts to Gail's head. "There. Now, Gail knows you're just too tongue-tied right now to tell her that she is your whole life. Between you and me, I suspect that she knows that already. Now, the trick is for you to act like it. Then, the ripples in the pond will extend, and that's when your mission will truly begin. Goodbye, my Son."

Then God and Gail disappeared, and Cas was left on his own again, to do some more wandering. But this time, he did so with a lighter step, a smile on his face, and a full canteen.


	2. Nobody Wins A War

Chapter 2 - Nobody Wins A War

Rowena had filled Raguel in on the conversation she had overheard at the diner, and he was lost deep in thought now. Surely, there must be a way to use this very interesting information to his advantage.

Raguel was much more interested in obtaining the Book of Life than in getting the Book of the Dead. The Book of Life's ultimate purpose, as far as Raguel was concerned, was to serve as an instruction manual of sorts. Guidelines on the disposition of souls. Whomever held the Book would be the ultimate judge of the dead, which was what Raguel desired most of all.

Not very many people, or even Angels, knew who Raguel was any more, but there had been a time when he had been held in high esteem in Heaven. His function had been to dispense justice on God's behalf, and punishment to those who violated God's Will. Much like a Sheriff or a Constable, Raguel's job was to keep fallen Angels and Demons in check. Raguel had been a Senior Seraphim, but he had successfully argued to the Father that, in order to do his job effectively, he should be promoted to Archangel. God had seen logic in that, so He had conferred the title and most of the attendant powers upon him. But the Almighty had sold Raguel on the supposed fact that, because Raguel was God's covert operative, his name would not appear in the Bible, nor would it come up on a list of known Archangels. Raguel had bought the story hook, line, and sinker, at least at the time.

Raguel really wanted the Book of Life, but he would also take the Book of the Dead, of course. Not only because the two were pretty much a matched set, but also to keep the Book of the Dead out of the hands of any of the other major players. If any one of them were to get their hands on the other Book, Raguel's power would be considerably diluted.

Now that God the Father was retired and the High Office seemed to be passing from one individual to the other like a hot potato, Raguel felt the time was right for him to step up as the ultimate lawman. But this time, he wanted to be on top, separating the Good from the Evil, bringing down every kind of wrath on the Evil. That was the mission that God the Father had charged him with all those centuries ago, and that was the mission that he intended to carry out. Many would probably call Raguel a zealot, but he did not necessarily feel that that was a bad thing.

So, Castiel was contemplating a Holy War, was he? That little tidbit of information had made Raguel sit up and take notice. From everything Raguel had been led to believe, Castiel had softened over the years, and was at best a moderate, these days. But if this report was accurate, Raguel might have to change his opinion about his Brother.

Raguel was all in favour of a Holy War. It would certainly make his job easier. Many lives would be lost, and many tears would be shed, by those who still had the ability to shed them. But Raguel had lost that ability a long time ago, if he'd ever had it to begin with. Oh, well. Let those who had tears weep for the dead. They could even weep for the Sinners, if they wanted to. Raguel would not, and he would show no mercy, either. After all, none had been shown to Raguel, nor any respect, for that matter. He had always understood his name to mean "friend of God", and that interpretation had served to make him very proud. But his fellow Archangels had scoffed, saying that his name actually meant "assistant to God", and that he was no peer of theirs. If he didn't believe them, he could look it up in the Book of Enoch. Then they had all turned their backs on him, and he had been utterly humiliated. And he had never asked the Father about it, because he had been afraid of the answer.

But he would show them all that he was someone to be respected. For, once he got a hold of the Book of Life, Raguel intended to separate the wheat from the chaff, and the Righteous from the Sinners. And if any of those arrogant, entitled Archangels thought they were without Sin, they had another think coming.

It was strange, though; Raguel had been under the impression that Castiel had been one of the worst sinners of all. But if he was seriously contemplating waging war, Raguel might very well have to reconsider. Perhaps a partnership might be in order. He would have to wait and see.

Cas had felt better after his visits, however imaginary, from God and Gail. But he still wasn't quite right, although he sensed he might be getting closer now. He still hadn't had anything to eat, he hadn't allowed himself to fall asleep, and he was using his water only sparingly. But he hadn't had any additional visions, either good or bad.

He was beginning to fall into a depression now. Where was his epiphany? And then one day, about a week after he had received his canteen, it happened.

His feet hurt, so he stopped to rest. He leaned up against a large rock and set the canteen down on it while he removed his shoes. They had sand in them, of course. They always did. He upended them, then took off his socks and shook them out, as well. It was nearly night-time now, and the place where he was currently standing was comfortable enough, so he tarried, sinking his toes into the sand. It felt good to have his feet free from encumbrance for a moment, but the sand was already starting to get warm on his skin. So he reached up to grab the canteen, in order to wash his feet. It was then that he felt the sting.

Cas jerked his hand away, and he saw the scorpion scuttling down the rock. But it was not black or even yellow in colour; it was white. A white scorpion? Cas had never heard of such a creature. He looked at his hand. It was already swollen, and the area around the sting mark was very red. He put his lips to it and attempted to suck out whatever strange poison might have been injected into him, but it was too late. Perhaps Patricia had been reincarnated as a scorpion, Cas thought sarcastically, and had wanted to mess with him just one final time.

He started to feel lightheaded. He slumped down the rock until he was sitting on the sand, and his eyes started to close. Great. Now he was going to die here, without ever seeing his loved ones again. He should have just gone home after the visit from God. Really, what more did he need?

Cas drifted off into a feverish sleep, but in his mind's eye, he had only rested a moment until he looked off into the distance and heard a huge booming sound. An instant later, a mushroom cloud appeared in the sky, and he could hear the screams of the unfortunates. The ones who had survived the explosion.

Cas got to his feet as quickly as he could. Was he close enough to receive radiation from the blast? Did it even matter?

He began to walk through the desert, towards the source of the explosion. He needed to see how bad it was, and if there was anything he could do to help. But he could hear other blast sounds reverberating in his head, and he wondered now if this was the End of Times. Was he the last one on Earth now? No. He couldn't believe that. He wouldn't believe that. He needed to find survivors.

No, you need to stay away from everyone, the voice inside his head said. This is your fault. You and your Holy War. It is YOU who is the scourge of the world. Now, you have gotten all of your loved ones annihilated.

And now, the struggle began: Who was 'Cas', anyway? WHAT was he? Was he the hero he was trying so desperately to be, merely attempting to love, and be loved? Or was he a dangerous, violent beast, as Patricia had kept on saying, who should be kept away from society altogether?

Suddenly, he came upon a woman. She was sitting on the ground, leaning up against a rock, and she was crying. Oh, thank God, there were survivors, Cas thought. He hadn't wanted to spend the rest of his existence alone.

He went to the woman and knelt beside her. "Please don't cry," he said to her.

She looked up at him with big brown eyes. Her tears ceased, but her expression was one of hurt and sorrow. He had to comfort her. He touched her face gently, wiping away an errant tear. Her skin was unbelievably soft.

And when she spoke, her voice was soft, as well. She said, "I'm all alone, and I'm hurt."

Cas was startled. Had he hurt her in some way? After all, he was a violent brute, wasn't he? Everybody said so. And she looked so vulnerable. So he got to his feet and backed away from her. He didn't want to harm her any further.

So he turned and started to walk away, but a moment later, he looked down, and she was walking beside him. "Please, go away," Cas said softly. "I'm not fit to be around anyone."

Then he started walking again, and again, she followed. He cautioned her twice more, but still, she persisted. He begged her to stay away from him, for her own sake. But no matter what he said, she just looked up at him with her big brown eyes, patiently listening, and then she would follow him anyway.

Cas gave up. He no longer had the heart to try to shoo her away. Truthfully, now that she was here, he felt much better, although she hadn't said a word since her intitial greeting.

A while later, they came upon two tall men, walking down the road. At some point, the desert sand had become a winding path, and Cas had found himself walking on it with the woman. And now, they had encountered two other men.

The men looked at him in surprise, and Cas assessed them warily. Were they a threat? His first instinct was to go for his blade, to protect the woman. But of course, he didn't have his blade. He'd left it behind...where? He couldn't remember.

But the men and the woman greeted each other as if they knew each other, and then the men fell in on either side of him and the woman. Maybe Cas was the one who was the threat, then. They were just looking at him, not saying a word. Were they there to protect the woman from him?

Cas started to walk down the path again, and all three of them followed along beside him. Except for the fact that none of his companions had spoken, this was starting to remind him of a movie he'd seen, once. Were they on their way to the Emerald City, perhaps? Which one was Cas? The one without a brain, a heart, or courage? All three of those could be persuasively argued, he thought with faint humour.

Soon one day folded into the next, and then the next. The path never seemed to end, and every day, it was the same. Eventually, his companions did begin to speak to him, and incredibly, they told him that they were with him merely to love him, and to care for him.

"No," he protested. "I destroyed the world."

"You didn't, Cas," the taller man said to him. "You came back from your sabbatical, and you said you weren't going to wage war. That you understood your mission, now."

"Yeah, and thanks a lot for telling us about that, by the way," the other, shorter-haired man said to the woman, nudging her.

Cas tensed, but the woman simply smiled up at the man who had jostled her. "Hey, there was nothing you could have done about it, anyway," she said warmly. "He had to discover his true mission on his own." She looked at Cas, putting her hand gently on his arm. "Have you discovered your mission yet, Cas?"

But every day, he had frowned when she'd asked him that question. "No," he'd said sadly.

Then the woman and the two men would exchange glances, smiling. "That's OK; we can wait," one of them would say. "Our mission is to walk with you, and take care of you."

Eventually, Cas had ceased to protest, because nothing he said made any difference. So they walked with him, offering him comfort and companionship, asking nothing in return. Then, one day, he stopped walking.

"I know what my mission is," Cas said dazedly. "I can't believe I forgot. The white scorpion's sting made me forget. My mission is to love all of YOU, and take care of YOU. I'm supposed to love my wife, my family, and myself, and to regain Paradise for those of us who have lost it. THAT'S my mission! Not to wage war, but to walk with you, and take care of all of you!"

"I told you he'd get it," Sam said to Dean. "You owe me five bucks."

"Yeah, yeah," Dean grumbled good-naturedly. "Now hurry up and get home, Cas. Your wife's been driving us nuts. But seriously, we all miss you, buddy."

Gail smiled up at her husband. "I'm so glad you had your epiphany, Cas. I'll be waiting for you in Heaven."

He looked at her sadly. "You're my wife, aren't you?" he asked her.

Her smile faded. "Yes," she said curtly.

"I'm sorry, but I can't remember your name," he told her, his forehead wrinkling.

Her face fell for a moment, but she said, "OK, Cas. Come to the bunker, then, and we'll talk."

"You're not angry with me?" he asked her, astonished.

She smiled thinly. "Well, I'm not thrilled. But, we'll get there. I'm never giving up on you, Cas. Never. Now, come on." She took his hand. "We'll walk you to the fork in the road, and then we'll be leaving you. Come to the bunker as soon as you wake up."

"How do I get there?" he fretted.

"Just click your heels three times, Dorothy," Dean said, rolling his eyes. "Get over yourself, Cas. You know how to get to the bunker."

Gail smirked. "And, there you have it. The man with no heart."

"I thought he was the one with no brains," Sam quipped.

"Six of one, half dozen of the other," Gail said, shrugging. "Let's go, you guys."

They walked Cas to the fork in the road, and then they faded away, one by one, until Cas was left standing there alone. He smiled gently. His family. He loved them all so very, very much. Even if he couldn't remember his darling wife's name at the moment.

Cas closed his eyes, and a minute later, he woke up. The sun was just starting to rise on the horizon. The world hadn't ended, because he had never started the war. He should have died overnight from the scorpion's sting, but his family had come to him in his dream and kept him alive until the morning. He smiled again.

He put his socks and shoes on, then sprang to his feet and retrieved his canteen from where it was still sitting on top of the rock. He slung it over his shoulder, concentrated on the bunker, and then winked himself away.

"How dare you use the c-word with me?!" Gail exclaimed, as Sam grinned.

Dean had entered the library area just in time to hear that, and he looked curiously at the two of them. There was no way Sam would ever use a word like that with Gail. He wasn't that kind of guy, and besides, he was still alive, wasn't he?

"Something I oughta know about, here?" Dean said dryly, looking from one of them to the other.

"HE called Cas and me 'co-dependent'!" Gail said, pointing her finger at Sam.

As Dean opened his mouth to retort, Cas suddenly popped into the room. Both Gail and Sam leaped out of their chairs, but Dean was the closest one in proximity to Cas, and he rushed over towards his friend. But then, he stopped short.

"Hooo, Cas, man, you need a shower, big-time," Dean told him, waving his hand back and forth.

"I'm sorry, Dean, I was just so excited to come here and see you," Cas said.

"Don't they have showers in Heaven?" Dean said, wrinkling his nose. "If you were a cartoon, you'd have those wavy lines coming out of you right now."

Heaven? Then, Cas realized: Dean didn't know where he had been. He looked at his wife. She'd obviously kept her counsel on his behalf this whole time, even though it must have been very difficult to do.

Now she was approaching him, but Cas held up his hand. "Stop," he told her, and then he looked at Sam. "Sam, come closer, please," Cas said to his friend. "Do I really...smell?"

"Since you asked, yeah, you do, Cas," Sam said, his lips twitching. "And, I hate to tell you this, but I don't have to come any closer to tell you that."

Cas was mortified. "I'm so sorry. I never thought..." He took the canteen off his shoulder, giving it to Dean. "I will go into the shower immediately. Can you please give this to my wife?"

Gail was looking at him curiously now. As Dean passed her the canteen, she said, "I'll go get you a change of clothes, Cas."

"Thank you," he replied.

"Thank you...who?" she asked him coolly.

His heart sank. "I cannot remember," he said softly.

"I'll be right back with the clothes," she said tonelessly, and then she popped out as Sam and Dean looked at each other, open-mouthed.

Gail popped up to their suite in Heaven. She put the canteen down on the coffee table, and then she walked calmly into the bedroom to get Cas a fresh outfit to wear.

But as she opened the closet and looked at his clothes, hanging right next to hers as always, she lost it.

"He doesn't even remember my name?" she said aloud. "He knows who Sam and Dean are, and he knows his way to the bunker, but he doesn't even remember my name?!" She waved her hand, and all of his clothes came flying out of the closet, landing on the bed. "Well, maybe I should pack ALL of his things, and he can go live with the two of them, then!" Another wave, and their bags went flying onto the bed. They flew open, and the clothes packed themselves. "Oh, the hell with it," she said angrily. "What do we need with a bed, anyway? It's not like we ever use it, these days!" She waved her hand again, and the bed ignited.

The souls in their various realms felt the heat from the fire, and a huge fireball came down from the sky and landed in the open field behind the bunker. Sam and Dean looked up when they heard the noise, startled. Cas was in the shower, luxuriating in the feel of water cascading down on him, making him clean again. Because he barely had any powers at the moment, he didn't sense a thing.

Then Gail waved her hand again, and the fire went out. So did the conflagration in the field behind the bunker. And their African acquaintances received a much-needed rainfall, as Gail's temper cooled.

Another hand wave, and the clothes and bags were back in the closet, and the bed was restored. So THAT was what it felt like to use God's powers, Gail thought. Wow. She'd had them inside of her this whole time, but she had never used them for anything. She'd just been holding them, for the person they really belonged to.

She sank down on the bed, trying to put herself in Cas's place. While he was gone, she'd had a vision, too. She had pictured him walking for miles and miles in the heat of the desert, looking for his epiphany. He had looked terrible. His skin was burned from the sun, his lips were dry and cracked, and he was perspiring heavily and crying too, shedding precious bodily fluid. How thirsty he must be. And, as soon as she'd had that thought, a canteen had appeared in his hand, and he had looked surprised. He'd had a couple of drinks from it and then upended it over his head, but then, the canteen had been empty. Gail thought about the never-ending bottles of liquor in the bunker, and then, Cas had taken another drink. Then he had smiled, and Gail had felt so happy to see that that she had almost felt like she was the one who had been walking alone in the desert. Because, in a way, she had been making her own lonely walk. All that time that Patricia had been keeping Cas imprisoned and drugged, Gail had been running around Heaven, making sure he wasn't forgotten. Then she'd finally gotten him to Earth, but she'd had to use every trick in the book, including murder, to free him from his captors. And still, he hadn't really known who she was, or who they were together. But that was OK, she'd told herself. He would get that back. He just needed time. The main thing had been that he was free. So what if he wouldn't hold her hand? So what if he looked at her with revulsion every time she tried to be affectionate towards him? Then they'd driven Patricia out of the Office, and Cas had become God. Now everything would be fine, Gail had thought. But, no. Cas had still kept her at arms' length, claiming to love her, but treating her as one would treat a person they were forced to keep company with. But then, finally, he had announced that he was going away to "get himself right", and she had rejoiced. He was leaving to have his epiphany, and he was going to come all the way back from what Patricia had done to him, at last. But now, he was saying that he didn't even remember Gail's name?! What the hell? How much more did she have to take?

But she'd had her little temper tantrum now, and because she still had The Eye, Gail had seen the temporary havoc she'd wreaked behind the bunker. That had scared her a little, actually. What if her aim had been off? What if that fireball had landed on someone's house, instead?

Besides, she wasn't really mad at Cas, she was mad at the situation. She tried to put herself in his place. How would he be feeling right now? Scared? Confused?

Dean liked a lot of Bob Seger songs, and there was one that said that until you'd been beside a man, you don't know how he feels. Gail knew her husband. It must be tearing him up inside not to be able to remember her name. Besides, what was more important right now was to make sure that he was himself again.

She sighed heavily. Then she rose from the bed and went to the closet to pick out an outfit for her husband.

Cas was thinking about Gail too, as he stepped out of the shower and toweled himself dry. The song that Gail had been thinking of also stated that once a man was inside a woman's heart, he must keep his head. It also went on to say that once Heaven opened up the door, Angels feared to tread. Cas had heard Dean listening to that song in his room before, and Dean's Angel friend had always thought that the lyrics were rather curious. If a man was inside a woman's heart, that meant that the woman had allowed him to enter, and once that happened, how could the man possibly keep his head? And why on earth would he want to? Cas was an "all in" type of individual. But now, he sort of understood the latter part. Once you were all in with your mate, it was exhilarating, but it was also very frightening. For as invested as you were in the person you loved, they were likewise invested in you, and any misstep you committed affected them just as much. He had seen the hurt in her eyes when he'd admitted that he couldn't remember her name. But Cas wasn't going to give up. She'd never given up on him. Not once.

He wrapped the towel around his waist and poked his head out of the washroom door. Dean was standing there, holding Cas's clothes. "Come on, let's get you dressed," Dean said to him. "We've gotta talk."

They were all sitting in the library area of the bunker now. Cas had taken his usual seat, but he hadn't reached out for Gail's hand. He wasn't even looking at her at the moment. She was trying not to take that personally.

Sam and Dean had opted to pick up the thread of the conversation that Sam and Gail had been having before Cas got there, hoping it would shake the couple out of their doldrums.

"I believe there was a subject still on the table," Sam said to his brother. "I said that Cas and Gail were co-dependent, and she seems to disagree. What do YOU have to say about it?"

"What do I have to say?" Dean echoed, looking at their Angel friends. "Are you kidding? If you look up 'co-dependent' in the dictionary, you see a picture of these two in there, waving. 'Helllooo. Here we are! Right here!'"

He had been looking to get a rise out of the couple, but Cas just sat there, expressionless, and Gail was morose, not speaking.

Then, Sam tried again. "Did you ever hear that song 'Chasing Cars'?" he asked her.

Gail shrugged. "I don't know, Sam. Maybe."

"Here," he said, typing away on his laptop. "When I heard this song, I thought of you guys right away." He hit Play, and turned up the volume.

Gail didn't react, but Cas sat up straighter in his chair. He cocked his head, listening to the lyrics of the song. Then, unexpectedly, he began to cry.

"That's exactly how I feel about you!" Cas exclaimed, looking at Gail. "Yet everyone, ever since we met, has tried to tell me that it's wrong to feel that way. Even the two of you," he continued, looking at Sam and Dean. "But, no one has ever told me WHY it is wrong. We were happy, weren't we?" he asked Gail.

She was speechless, running the gamut of emotions right now. It was breaking her heart to see the tears running down his face. Cas had always worn his heart on his sleeve, but he'd had way too many reasons to cry lately. So had she, for that matter. Her heart had soared when Cas had said that he felt the same way as the lyrics of the song had suggested. So did she, but she was glad that he had said so first. That said to her that he truly did remember how he felt about her, and who they were together. And he had articulated the frustration she'd felt when their friends had called them "co-dependent". That word was always tossed around in such a negative way. The bottom line was, if she and Cas were so deeply in love, why couldn't people just let them be deeply in love? The thing that was bothering her the most, though, was Cas's use of the past tense.

"Well, weren't we?" Cas persisted.

"Yes, Cas," she said sadly. "We were. We were blissfully, ecstatically happy." Well, when people weren't trying to poison us or kill us, that is, she thought sarcastically. Which admittedly, had been the majority of the time they had been together.

"Well then, why does everyone keep trying to tell us how to live, and how to feel?" Cas puzzled aloud. He looked at the brothers, and then at Gail again. "You're always taking up for me. Supporting me. You're always asking me what I think, and how I feel. What do YOU think? How do YOU feel, Gail?"

Her mouth fell open. "You know my name," she breathed.

"Of course I do," Cas said, wrinkling his forehead. "You're my wife, aren't you?"

Gail started to smile. "You know my name," she said again. "Say it again."

"Gail," he said warmly.

"He knows my name!" Gail exclaimed happily. She rose from her chair and started to dance in place. "You want to know what I think?" she went on. "I think everybody else can suck it!"

"What the hell are you doing?" Dean asked her.

"I'm doing the victory dance," she told him. "Cas knows my name!"

"You're weird," Dean said, shaking his head. "You're BOTH weird."

"That's because we're co-dependent!" she said delightedly. Of course, deep down inside, Gail knew that it was true: she and Cas WERE extremely co-dependent. But how could two people who had been through as much as the two of them had together NOT be co-dependent? And was that really so wrong, or was it just because everyone else chose to put such a negative spin on it? The term had always had a bad connotation placed on it, but...

"Doesn't the body depend on the heart to survive?" Gail asked the brothers. She smiled at her husband, who gave her a gentle smile in return. Cas thought that was a very sweet and apt way to put it. "'If love be madness, may I never find sanity again'," he said softly.

Gail rushed over to him. That had sounded like a quote from something. Shakespeare? The Bible? George Michael? Who cared?

Cas stood from his chair. "Thank you for the use of your shower," he said to the Winchesters. "Gail and I will be going back to Heaven now, but I promise you it won't be so long between visits from now on. I have a mission, and it's time that I got started."

Cas extended his hand to Gail, and her heart soared again. She blew the brothers a kiss, took her husband's hand, and they popped out of the bunker.

Cas sat Gail down on the couch in the living room of their suite, and he began to talk. He told her about everything that had transpired in the desert, both real and imaginary, and everything in-between.

"You and Sam and Dean kept me alive last night," he told her. "I am sure of it. I would have died of the scorpion's poison, had it not been for the three of you."

She was puzzled. "But, we weren't there, Cas."

"I know that," he said quietly. "But you were here," he said, pointing to his heart. Gail smiled. Cas looked at the canteen on the coffee table. "You also saved my life when you asked Father for that water for me. I don't know how to thank you, my darling. You are always thinking of me. Always."

"Of course I am," she responded. Then her lips twitched. "We're co-dependent, or haven't you heard?"

"I seem to recall something about that, but I wasn't really paying close attention," Cas said lightly. "I was too busy thinking about you, and how soon I might be able to kiss you."

She smiled again. "I think I might be able to fit that into my busy schedule," she said teasingly. "How about, oh, I don't know...NOW, and for the rest of our lives?"

Cas laughed softly, He reached for her, and she fell into his arms. They kissed for quite a while, making up for lost time. In-between kisses, Cas was apologizing, telling her that he had been confused, and he had been wrong. He owed her his life. He owed her everything.

Gail was soaking all of it up now, like a very thirsty sponge. His touch, his kiss, his smile..."You're yourself again, aren't you, Cas?" she asked him, touching his face.

"Yes, I am," he assured her. "I truly am. And I know what my mission is, now. I know what I have to do."

"What's that, Cas? What do you have to do?" she inquired, with a note of caution in her voice.

Cas sighed. The way he had been behaving before he'd left, he really couldn't blame her for the way she felt. "Don't worry, my love," he told her softly, stroking the back of her hands with his thumbs. From the moment she had allowed him to kiss her, he hadn't broken contact with her, not once. He had a lot to make up for. "I no longer intend to wage a Holy War," he continued. "I have no idea what I could have been thinking. In fact, I'll disband the Academies immediately, if you think I should do so."

"I don't know if you need to go that far," she said to him. "I still think it's a good idea to have a facility for Angels to learn how to fight. I don't think we should be pushovers, either. But I do think that we should go back to the way things were. Keep them open, but let everyone know that attendance is strictly voluntary, and tell everyone that we won't be looking to initiate any aggression. What do you say?"

"I say that's perfect," Cas said, nodding his head.

"Good. Now I'll give you the power back," Gail told him. "I have your blade in the bedroom. I'll just go and get it."

She started to rise from the couch, but Cas said, "Wait." She looked at him questioningly. "Before we do that, I want to talk to you for a moment," Cas said soberly. "I'm wondering if we shouldn't just leave things the way they are."

Gail's forehead wrinkled, but she kept quiet for the moment. Cas went on, "It seems as if every time I have too much power, I screw up," he said forlornly. "Maybe I shouldn't be God, at all. Maybe YOU should."

But Gail was shaking her head. "No, I can't, Cas. It's against the law. If you abdicated, the Office would go to Bobby. I'm not even technically supposed to have these powers right now. But I've just been holding them for you until you got back, so I figured it was OK to bend the rules in that instance."

Cas was still frowning. "I don't know if I can be trusted with that kind of power again, Gail," he said quietly. "Maybe I should just resign, then."

"What's your mission, Cas?" she asked him.

"To regain Paradise for those who have lost it, including myself," he answered automatically, and then his expression softened. "And, to love and care for my family," he added.

"And you won't be waging a Holy War?" she persisted.

"No," he said firmly. "As a very smart and adorable woman sang just recently: 'War, what is it good for? Absolutely nothing'."

Gail did a double-take. Cas was smiling now. She didn't remember ever singing that to him. But it didn't matter. "Well then, that's good enough for me," she said. She took him by the hands and popped him into the bedroom. She sat him down on the bed and turned to the bureau. She opened the top drawer and took his blade out, and then she wrapped her hands around it, concentrating. A moment later, the white glow suffused the blade. She turned to Cas and placed it in his hands, and a few seconds later, the glow engulfed his body and then went out.

"Are you OK, Cas?" she asked him hesitantly. "How do you feel?"

"I'm fine," he told her. "I'm really, really fine." He put his blade on the nightstand and then put his arms around her waist, pulling her down to sit on his lap. "We have a lot of making up to do, in very many areas," he said softly. "I'm very sorry about that, too." Then he kissed her, using his tongue this time. She responded immediately, and he slipped his hands under her top. "I hope you don't have anything planned for the rest of the day," Cas murmured, smiling. "I plan to keep you here for quite a while." He was already taking her clothes off and laying her down on the bed. His hands and tongue were everywhere on her body now. He waved his little finger, and his clothes came off immediately.

"That's cheating," she quipped. "Not that I'm complaining."

"Finally, an advantage to being God," Cas said, and the two of them laughed and laughed.

"I love you, sweetie," Gail said in his ear as he caressed her stomach. She felt butterflies at his touch. After all this time, she still felt as excited as if this was their first time.

"I love you too, my darling," he responded. "I need you. Thank you for not giving up on me."

"I expect to be rewarded handsomely for my devotion," she said mischievously, smiling.

"I think that can be arranged," Cas said softly, and his voice was just like silk. Now he was smiling again, too. "Let's see if my Godly powers can come in handy in that regard, as well."

His tongue trailed down her body, but then she stopped him. "I have a better idea," Gail said to him. "Let's be co-dependent." Both of them laughed again, and Cas maneuvered her until they were in that position. Seconds later, they were both crying out in pure pleasure.

Raguel wasn't able to see any of that, of course, nor would he have been interested, even if he could. But he HAD been watching them in the suite's living room, in Rowena's enchanted mirror. He had instructed her to set up a pocket mirror for him, so that he could take it with him wherever he went. Ever since he'd heard that Castiel was going to wage war on Hell, Raguel had been eager to find out any further information on the subject. Perhaps he would speak with Castiel directly, if he heard what he was hoping to hear. But now, Castiel was telling his wife that he was definitely NOT going to wage war. Raguel was astounded. Either Rowena had been sorely mistaken, or something had happened to change Castiel's mind.

Raguel popped over to Rowena's suite immediately, and told her what he had just seen and heard.

"But Gail said - " Rowena started to say, but Raguel interrupted her angrily. "I don't care what his wife said!" he exclaimed. "She is not God, HE is, and he just said that he will not do it! Instead, he talks about love, and Paradise!"

Rowena couldn't believe what she was hearing. She had really been hoping that Castiel was going to declare war on her son. Then she could sit back and watch the fireworks. Raguel had already promised her his protection. She had been looking forward to seeing how many of her enemies would suffer and perish in the war. But now, Raguel was telling her that there would be no war? No war at all? This was unbearable.

"Oh, there will be a war, dearie," she hissed. "I'm going to make sure of it."

Raguel's eyebrows raised. "Really? And how are you going to do that?"

She told him about the backup plan she had thought up. Rowena was very much like her son in that regard. Once she'd made up her mind that she really wanted something, her mind worked overtime until she came up with a way to get it. She'd figured that Castiel couldn't be counted on to follow through with his sabre-rattling. These days, Castiel was about as dangerous as a mewling kitten, in many respects. Not that she would tangle with him one-on-one, though, of course, especially if his precious wife was threatened and his blade was in his hand. But, war on such an epic scale, using Earth as the battlefield? Not too bloody likely, as her son the King of Hell would say.

But the wording of the Angels' recent conversation and also the verbiage Gail had used in the diner gave Rowena pause. She'd been thinking of a way to trigger the Holy War, in case Castiel backed out. What if Crowley had gotten wind of Castiel's plans? So Rowena had done a little digging, and she'd found out that Crowley not only knew what Castiel had been planning, but the King had warned God not to start the aggression, or his own loved ones would be the first to die.

"Well, that's all very well and good, but what difference does it make?" Raguel said to Rowena, frustrated. "Castiel is not going to start the aggression! He has said so himself!"

Rowena smiled. "Yes, but, what if Castiel has every reason to believe that my son has started the aggression? I believe they call it a pre-emptive strike, do they not? Then Castiel would have no choice but to respond in kind, would he?"

Raguel slowly started to smile. He rarely smiled, and Rowena was actually glad of that fact, because the expression looked so creepy and wrong on his face. "What exactly did you have in mind?" he asked her.


	3. Family Portraits

Chapter 3 - Family Portraits

The first couple of days since Cas returned from the desert were going to be reserved for making up for lost time with his friends and family, and his main priority had been to reconnect with Gail. They had had plenty of conversations about their relationship, and they were having another one now.

Gail was becoming amused. It had always been her understanding that men hated to talk about their feelings, and the status of their relationships. Look at the other males in her life: Frank, Dean...even Sam, although he was better at that kind of thing than most of them. But Cas was different, of course. He had always been different. He loved to talk about those kinds of things, probably because historically, Angels had not been allowed to feel those kinds of things.

He was apologizing to her once again for having treated her so coldly before he'd gone away. "Patricia had me convinced that our physical expression of love was a Sin, and I was under the influence of the poison she had been injecting into my bloodstream," Cas said, speaking softly. They were lying in bed together, facing each other. They had spent the better part of two days here now, making love and talking, talking and making love.

"And then, because my psyche was already fractured, when the powers of the Office were transferred unto me, I struggled with them," Cas went on. Boy, that was an understatement, Gail thought. But they'd been over this ground before, multiple times, since he'd returned.

"I know that, Cas," she said, brushing an errant lock of hair back from his forehead.

"I know I hurt your feelings, and I must apologize," Cas said earnestly.

"You already have," she told him.

"I wasn't myself," he persisted stubbornly.

"I know, Cas. It's OK," she assured him.

"I never stopped loving you, even when I was behaving as if I didn't," he said.

"I know that too, Cas," Gail replied softly. "You're sweet, but you really don't need to keep apologizing. I admit, I appreciated it the first ten times, but now it's just getting silly," she added, smiling.

Cas began to caress her lightly, but he still felt as if he had more to say. "Thank you for never giving up on me, my love."

"I could never give up on you, sweetie," she replied. "Neither did Sam and Dean, or Frank, or any of them. We're all family, Cas, and we all love each other. I love you more than anything, Cas. I always have, and I always will. I would never give up on you, no matter what. Never. After all, it's only fair. You said the same thing to me, remember? When I was Sarah, you found me, and then you stayed with me until I got my memory back. Even way back, when we first met, you rescued me from Crowley. Twice. Not to mention all those other times." She pretended to consider: "Actually, now that I think about it, maybe that Holy War isn't such a bad idea after all," she quipped dryly.

Cas smiled, because he knew that she was joking. "I'm just glad that I came to my senses, before I did something that we would all regret. And you helped me with that, too. You always help me when I'm wrestling with difficult decisions, whether you know it or not."

"Laminated card," she said pertly, and they both laughed.

"There are so many things I want to do," Cas told her. "So many things I need to put right."

"I'm glad to hear that, Cas," she said. "And, I know you're the Almighty and everything, but if you need my help for any of it, just let me know."

"I will," he said, and now his caresses were becoming firmer. "It doesn't matter how much power I have, I will always need you."

Gail snuggled against him. "Speaking of which, can I ask you a question?" she said shyly.

"Of course, my love. You can ask me anything."

"When we were making love a little while ago, were you using any...ummmm...extra Godly ardour, shall we say?" she asked him, with a raised eyebrow.

Cas's lips twitched. "I don't know if I should say," he responded evasively. "Strictly speaking, I'm probably not supposed to do that." Now his hands had wandered, and he was stroking the inside of her thigh. She had automatically opened her legs to afford him better access. "Why, did you enjoy what I did?" Cas asked her. He nuzzled her neck, and he was stroking her lightly with his fingertip now.

"I did," she said, wriggling her body to move closer to his hand.

"Then it'll just be our little secret, then," he murmured against her neck. The white glow went through his hand to the lower part of her body and she clung to him, riding the wave of pleasure. Wow. This went on for a little while until she asked him to please let up, or she was going to be too exhausted to move any more. But she was smiling when she said it.

An hour or so later, the Angels were showered and dressed. Cas took his wife by the hand and popped her over to the boardroom. To their surprise, the meeting had already started. But then, Chuck had always been an early bird.

Everyone looked up when they entered the room, and a moment later, Chuck started to applaud. Then the other Angels joined in, and then, they all started to rise from their chairs.

"What brought this on?" Gail asked them all, puzzled.

"Our elation is twofold," Chuck said in a formal tone, and Gail did a double-take. He grinned. "Sorry. I've been writing some old-timey Angel dialogue for the movie, and I lapsed there, for a minute. But what I was gonna say was that we're very happy to see you back, and we're even more happy to see the two of you holding hands. It's been way too long for both of those things."

"I'm sorry I quit on all of you," Gail told them, "but as you all know, I had my reasons. But Cas is back now, in every sense of the word, and we're going to fix everything that Patricia broke."

"You quit the board," Ogden said sourly. He was in his usual seat, at the opposite end of the table. Chuck and Laurel had taken over, co-chairing the board in Gail's absence, but neither of them had had the authority to get rid of him.

Cas let go of Gail's hand and stepped forward, glaring at Ogden. "She did not quit the board. She was otherwise occupied, dealing with my unlawful containment and systematic poisoning at your former employer's hands. Now, Gail is back. Therefore, she will be resuming the chairmanship of this board immediately, and the laws will be rewritten in accordance with the decisions made by her, and this board. But, you are hereby relieved of your obligation to sit the board, Ogden. I know how much it distresses you to have to take orders from my wife."

"According to the laws that SHE wrote, I am entitled to my seat here, until the board goes up for re-election," Ogden retorted.

Cas looked at him, half-amused and half-outraged. "Really, Ogden? Let me tell you everything that's wrong with what you are saying right now. First and foremost, I am God now, and I can fire anyone, as I see fit. Secondly, Patricia stood right here in this room, and she burned the laws that Gail and this board worked so hard to re-write in the first place. Therefore, there are no laws in place right now. We are starting from scratch. The law is what I say it is, Ogden. If you like, I will have several of my lieutenants provide you with an escort out of the room. And if you still refuse to go, I would invite you to test me. My hand is just itching to smite someone, and since Patricia is gone, you would do quite nicely."

Ogden sat there for a moment, stunned. The temerity of Castiel, standing there and talking to him like this. But like it or not, Castiel WAS God now, and Ogden did not dare go up against him. The tide had turned, and Castiel and Gail were the New Order in Heaven now. Ogden gathered up his papers and stalked angrily out of the room.

Gail was trying not to smile too widely. "I WOULD like to come back, but only if everybody here is okay with it. I promise my husband won't smite any of you, if you have an objection."

"Nobody has an objection, I can guarantee you that," Chuck said, handing her the gavel. "Welcome back, Madame Chairman." Everyone clapped again as Gail took her seat.

Sam and Quinn were sitting at the breakfast table in her kitchen, having coffee. They had been seeing a lot of each other ever since they'd made up after their fight at Christmas, and Sam had spent quite a few nights here by now. Quinn had spent just one night at the bunker, but after that, she had refused to stay there anymore. When Sam had asked her why, she had made up some lame-ass excuse about the "vibrations" of the place, and Sam had bought it. After all, a lot of weird things had happened in the bunker over the years, and there were a lot of occult books and objects there. And Quinn had been able to feel a lot of things in relation to those, too, but that alone wouldn't have deterred her. Look at what she did for a living, and at the things she had in her own house. No. It was Dean that was her problem.

After a lot of deliberation with herself, Quinn had decided to break her cardinal rule and tell Sam's brother what she had seen when she had touched Nicole at Jody's baby shower, and when she had, it had made Dean mad.

The next morning, after she had spent the night with Sam in his room in the bunker, Quinn had woken up, craving a cup of coffee. Sam had mumbled something and rolled over, so she'd decided to just let him sleep. She'd borrowed his robe and put it on over her underwear, and padded down to the kitchen to put a pot of coffee on.

To her surprise, Dean was already there, and the coffee was already made. So, after the initial moment of awkwardness that was almost inevitable in this type of situation, they had sat down and had a cup of coffee together.

"So, you and Sammy. Getting pretty serious, I guess?" Dean had teased her lightly.

Quinn had smiled. "Well, I don't know about that, but...I really like your brother, Dean."

"He obviously likes you, too," Dean said, raising his mug to her in salute. "Not too many people get to wear his Hogwarts robe."

Quinn looked down at herself. "Is that what this is?" She laughed.

"Yep." Dean smirked. "He thinks I don't know, but I know how to Google stuff, too. He's such a nerd."

And, because they were having such a great moment, Quinn blurted out, "I saw something that I think you should know about." Dean raised an eyebrow as she haltingly told him about her vision of Nicole, ripping Dean's heart out of his chest. "I really like Nicole," Quinn went on, "but, how much do you know about her? Are you sure she doesn't mean you any harm?"

Dean had smiled indulgently. "Look, Quinn. I know you mean well, but if Nicole was some kind of monster, I think I would know about it by now. It's kind of what me and Sammy do. Believe me, if she'd wanted to give me a heart-ectomy, she's had lots of chances. Well, maybe not lately, but...you know what I mean." Then he had frowned. "I hope you're not pulling any of that crap on Sam. Are you?"

Quinn had looked at him coolly. "What crap would that be, exactly? Psychic visions? That's kind of what I do, Dean," she retorted.

Dean said, "Don't get mad. If you wanna sit there in your house and tell a bunch of housewives about the hot affairs they're gonna have with their favourite movie stars, or tell Aunt Kate that her Pomeranian says hi, you go for it. Make as much money as you can. But Sam believes in that kind of stuff, so don't go messing with his mind, okay?"

Quinn was so angry that she was speechless for a moment. "I can't believe you would say something like that to me," she said at last. "You don't even know me. I have a genuine gift, Dean. How dare you accuse me of being a fake, and how dare you accuse me of messing with Sam?! I have real feelings for him! Just because you're jealous, that's no reason for you to behave like an ass. Good luck getting your heart ripped out!" She stood back from the table and stalked back down the hall.

Dean sat there quietly for a moment. Then he lifted his coffee cup, regarding it for a moment. "Too late," he said softly.

So now, if Quinn and Sam wanted to hook up for the night, Sam came to Quinn's house. Neither Quinn nor Dean had ever told Sam about their argument.

Sam was just about to take a sip of coffee when Oliver popped into Quinn's kitchen. Sam and Quinn flinched a bit, but Sam was pretty much an expert in having beings regularly popping into his own house, so the sudden appearance didn't faze him as much as it probably should have.

"We would appreciate a little privacy, Oliver," Quinn told the ghost, as if he was a misbehaving child.

"I need to ask you about my journal," Oliver said to Sam, ignoring her. "Has she read it yet?"

Sam explained about what had happened to Oliver's journal. "You know, I don't know if Gail had read everything I gave her, and I don't know if any other pages have been found. Now that things have settled down a bit, I guess I could follow up." He looked curiously at Oliver. "Why didn't you tell us that you were Gail's uncle? Or, why didn't you tell HER, at least?"

"Because I didn't remember," Oliver replied. "I know that sounds hard to believe, but it's true. I only remembered about my journal after I died."

"OK, then, why don't you just tell us what's on those pages, instead of having us go through all this b.s.?" Sam asked him, furrowing his brow.

"Because I can't remember!" Oliver shouted in frustration. One of the kitchen cabinets opened, and a stack of dishes fell to the floor, smashing to bits.

"Oh, thanks a lot, Oliver! My grandmother gave me those!" Quinn exclaimed angrily.

"I'm sorry, Quinn," he said, agitated. "I can't always control it. I'm just frustrated, because I can only remember what he allows me to remember."

"Who's 'he'?" Sam asked.

"I told you, I don't know!" the spirit shouted. He stamped his foot in frustration, and the fridge door flew open. The coffee cream went sailing across the room, and a carton of eggs overturned onto the floor, creating a sticky mess.

"I guess I'm taking you out for breakfast, then," Sam quipped, but Quinn glared at him. It was easy for him to joke around, wasn't it? He didn't have to live with it.

"I'm sorry," Oliver said again. "She needs to read the journal, in its entirety. Maybe if she does, I'll finally be able to move on. Please, Sam. Tell her."

"OK, Oliver, I will," Sam told the fretting ghost. "Actually, we'll be seeing Gail and Cas tonight. Now that everything's calmed down, we're finally gonna have that party to celebrate Cas's big promotion." He looked at Quinn. "Can you come?"

She smiled. "Sure, Sam. I'd like that."

"Great. Have a drink for me, too," Oliver said irascibly. "Just get the rest of that damn journal and have Gail read it, and then maybe I can finally get the hell out of here!" He popped out of the kitchen as Sam and Quinn looked at each other.

"I'll get the paper towels; you get the dustpan," Quinn sighed.

The party was in full swing now, and the mood was exuberant.

"Hey, Cas! Get your holy exalted ass over here! Jody wants to take a few pictures," Dean called out to his Angel friend.

"Wow. You really HAVE been promoted," Sam wisecracked. "Now, your ass is 'exalted'."

"I've always thought so," Gail said with a wicked grin.

"What kind of talk is that for the First Lady of Heaven?" Chuck chided her, grinning.

"She can say anything she wants," Cas said, putting his arms around his wife and giving her a squeeze. His lips twitched. "Besides, I'm flattered by the compliment."

They posed for a few group shots, with baby Angela on Bobby's knee, and baby Peter on his Uncle Tommy's lap. This was the first time that the whole group had been here together, and everyone was very excited to see everyone else. Even Nicole was there. Now that Chuck was back to writing the script again, the production staff on the film was working long hours, but Nicole had appealed to Richard for the day off. Once she'd told him what the party was for, he had given her his blessing. Her staff could cover for her the next morning, too, if she partied a bit late. Then he had told her to give Cas his best wishes. Richard couldn't believe that the same individual who had worked as a body double on their TV show was now God, and that their little TV show was now a blockbuster movie franchise. How far they had all come.

Jody had wanted everyone in the group picture, so Frank had set up a camera on a tripod across the room, and Jody had arranged everyone close together, tallest in the back. Cas was in the middle as the Guest of Honour, and he had his arms around Gail's waist. Gail was standing in front of him. The guys were on either side of Cas, and they were teasing him about being the Supreme Being.

"I guess now if there's a tornado or something, they'll just call it an 'Act of Cas'," Sam remarked.

"Cas help anyone who messes with Gail now," Frank quipped.

"Stand still, you guys," Jody admonished them. "You can horse around in a minute. I just want to get a couple of good group pictures, here."

A minute later, Jody gave them all the green light to disperse. Dean leaned down to baby Angela, touching her face with his hand.

"Got your nose," Dean said to Angela.

"She's not gonna know what you're doing, Dean. She's way too young," Frank told him.

But baby Angela laughed, and she reached out and grabbed Dean's finger with her tiny fist. Frank shook his head, smiling. Just like her Aunt Gail.

"Now, pull my finger," Dean said, smirking, and Tommy laughed. "Don't be gross, Dean," he said. "Besides, if she's anything like my little nephew here, she can probably outperform you in that department."

"And there's usually a wonderful surprise at the end of that transaction, as well," Carolyn added dryly.

"Not that YOU would know much about that," Barry said good-naturedly. "I'm the primary diaper-changer at our house."

"Can't you do something about THAT, Cas?" Jody said, smiling.

"I'm sorry, Jody. There are some things that are beyond even my powers," Cas said mildly. "That's the way our Father made babies."

Jody sighed. "Yeah. I figured as much." She looked at Dean, who was still playing with Angela.

"I've got your nose," Dean was telling the baby again, and she laughed once more. "What are you gonna do about it?"

"Geez, I wish you could do that with her father's mouth, sometimes," Jody said, smirking.

"Hey! What'd I do?" Frank objected.

"Angela definitely got her mom's looks," Bobby said warmly, handing the baby back to her mother. Then he looked at Frank. "Hopefully, she's got her mom's brains, too."

"What is this, National Pick On Frank Day?" Gail's brother exclaimed.

"Yes, it is, Frank. I made a Divine Proclamation," Cas quipped.

Frank did a double-take. "That wasn't bad, actually," he told his brother-in-law. "I'd high-five you, but I'm afraid you'd take my arm off at the shoulder, with all that Godly power you've got now. I don't want to get smited. Smote? Smitten?"

"Hopefully it's not 'smitten', or Jody and I are going to have a problem," Gail teased her brother.

Liz giggled, and Gail whirled around to see her friend, who had just appeared in the library on Gabriel's arm. Gabe had a bottle of champagne in one hand, and a wrapped gift in the other. He handed the present to Cas, and put the bottle down on the table. "Now, if you touch your finger to that, it'll be bottomless," he said to Cas, and then, the Archangel laughed. "Never mind; look who I'm telling. Congrats, Brother."

"You're supposed to call me Father, now," Cas deadpanned. But then he smiled, to show that he was only joking.

Gabriel stared at him for a minute, and then he laughed again. "You know, you're a hell of a lot funnier than you used to be, Cas."

"I was always funny," Cas said mildly. "I don't know why no one seems to believe me."

"That's because you weren't," Dean told him. He extended his hand to Gabriel for a shake. "Hey, Gabe. Welcome to the party."

Gabriel nearly looked behind him. He had never been welcomed this warmly by a Winchester before. He shook with Dean.

"I know you guys don't drink, but - " Frank said to the Archangel, but Gabe interrupted him. "I don't know what you've heard, Frank-en-furter, but today, I do. My Brother is God now, and Heaven is a happy place. Set 'em up, barkeep." He gave Gail a hug. "Hey, Kitten. Congrats to you, too. I can see a lot of good things in your future."

"That's my girlfriend's job," Sam said, bringing Quinn over to where Gabriel was standing. The men shook, and Sam introduced Quinn to the Archangel. Gabriel grinned. "I see a lot more pretty women around you guys than there were before, too," he remarked, taking her hand. "I might have to hang around here a lot more often."

Meanwhile, Liz walked up to Frank and said, "Hi, Frank. Remember me?"

"Aww, geez," he groaned. "Cas, what the hell, man? I thought you were my friend!"

"I am, Frank, but Gail is my wife, and Liz is her friend," Cas responded, "so you can see that I had no alternative."

"What I can see is that God is a wuss," Frank grumbled under his breath.

"You must be Liz," Jody said to Gail's friend. She shifted Angela to one arm, and stuck out her free hand. "Nice to meet you. Any tormentor of my husband's is a friend of mine."

Liz giggled again, and Angela laughed. "Who's this cutie-pie?" Liz said to the baby. "You obviously got your mom's looks."

Everyone laughed, because Bobby had just said the same thing before Liz and Gabriel had gotten there. And then, an extraordinary thing happened: Angela reached out to Liz, squirming in her mother's arms.

"Do you want to hold her?" Jody asked Liz. "It looks like she likes you."

"Babies love me," Liz said, smiling. "They always have. I was going have at least ten myself, before I died."

"Well, it'd be kind of hard to have them after," Gabriel cracked. He had moved on to Barry now. "You must be one of the gay guys," Gabe said, offering his hand.

Barry was bemused. He took Gabriel's hand. "Well, yes, I am," he said, "but, how did you know?"

"You're clean, and you're stylishly dressed," Gabriel said, smirking. "Not a hint of flannel."

"Standing right here, dude," Sam protested.

Cas and Gail were holding hands and kissing. This was the happiest they had felt in a long time, since before the election. Their whole family was here, and everyone was healthy and happy and joking around. Things simply didn't get any better than this.

"Open your present, sweetie," Gail said to her husband. She looked at Gabriel. "It was really nice of you to bring it."

"I didn't know we were bringing gifts," Tommy said. He smiled at Gabriel. "Please let go of my husband's hand. I'm the other gay guy, and I'm starting to feel jealous."

"Yeah, but what kind of present can you get for God?" Rob mused aloud. "Doesn't God have everything?"

"I certainly do," Cas said happily. "I certainly do."

"Open it," Gail prodded him. "I want to see what it is."

Cas unwrapped the gift and opened the box. He looked at what was in the box, and then up at Gabriel in astonishment.

"What is it, Cas?" Frank asked him, curious.

Dean craned his neck. "It's...a stick? You gave him a stick?"

"No, I didn't give him a STICK," Gabriel said, annoyed. "That's the olive branch."

"I can't believe it," Cas said, astonished. "How did you come by this?"

Gabriel shrugged. "Let's just say I know a guy."

Cas turned the box around so that he could show its contents to everyone. "This is the olive branch that was brought back to Noah at the conclusion of the Flood. The one that signified that the time of tribulation was over."

"I know you always felt bad about that incident," Gabriel said in a quiet tone. "So I wanted to give you that as a gift, to remind you that there's always hope."

Tears formed in Cas's eyes, and he rushed over to Gabriel, opening his arms. Gabe was taken aback. He was experiencing a few firsts tonight.

"Better hug him," Dean said in a gruff voice. "He won't leave you alone till you do." He had a lump in his throat now. That had been one hell of a thoughtful present, and the fact that it had come from Gabriel had been nothing short of amazing.

Gabriel returned Cas's hug, and tears sprang to Gail's eyes now. "I will never yell at you again," she told the Archangel softly.

He grinned, pulling out of the embrace. "Yeah, you will. I'm incorrigible. Isn't that right Liz?"

"No kidding," she answered with a smile.

"Nope, I can't be corridged at all," Gabriel said cheerfully. He looked at Frank. "Hey, Gail's brother, pour me a drink."

Frank shrugged. Why not? Any guy who would do such a nice thing for Cas was OK in his book. "Why is it that you can be disgruntled, but not gruntled?" he asked Gabriel. "Why do we park in a driveway, but drive on the parkway?"

"Why do they call it jumbo shrimp?" Gabriel responded in kind. "And how about 'military intelligence'?" He waggled his eyebrows at Sam and Dean. They'd all had some personal experience with that one.

"Oh, Lord help us," Jody said, rolling her eyes. "Whose bright idea was it to get those two together?"

"Rob, I'd like you to meet Gabriel, the Archangel," Frank said to his son. "A man whose sense of humour is almost as refined as my own."

"An Archangel? Wow," Rob said, impressed.

"Hello. God, standing right here," Cas quipped, and everyone laughed.

Gail came over to stand by her husband's side as Frank said, "You're coming up the list fast, Cas. You're way funnier than you were when we first met."

"You're just sucking up to him because he's the Supreme Being," Gail teased her brother, putting her arm around her husband.

"Supreme Being, my ass," Dean said, rolling his eyes. "He owes me about a thousand bucks, at least, for all the money I've spent on his wife over the years."

"'Blessed are the poor, for they shall inherit the Kingdom of Heaven'," Gail said, affecting a pious expression.

"Forget the Kingdom, just give me the cash," Dean grumbled good-naturedly.

"I'll tell you what," Cas said. "I'll make sure you're in line for Sainthood when you get to Heaven. How would that be?"

Dean smiled. "Saint Dean. I kinda like the sound of that."

"Hey, if putting up with Gail qualifies a guy for Sainthood, I should move to the head of the line," Frank quipped.

"You can be Saint Francis of ASS-isi," Gail retorted. "Emphasis on the first syllable, of course."

"Hey, Gail, can I talk to you for a minute?" Sam said, touching her arm.

She moved away from the group, following him to the other side of the room, where they were out of earshot.

"Sorry, but I didn't know when we'd see you next," Sam said apologetically. He told her what had happened at Quinn's that morning. "So after I left there, I stopped in to see Thane, and he said he'd been about to call me, because they found the rest of the journal pages. Oliver seems to think that if you read them, he might be able to move on from Quinn's place."

Gail was trying to keep a straight face, but she could only imagine what that must have looked like in Quinn's kitchen. Food and dishes flying all over the place. "Poor Quinn," she said. "OK, give me those pages, and I'll read them as soon as we get back to Heaven."

Sam frowned. "I've gotta warn you; Thane read them, and he said there's some really disturbing stuff in there. He doesn't believe a lot of the things Oliver alleges in there about Vincent, but he said to remind you there's no statute of limitations on murder."

Gail's blood ran cold. Oh, crap. "OK, Sam, thanks," she said, sighing. "We'll talk again, after I read them."

"How about if you come and get them now, before we forget?" Sam suggested.

"Sure, Sam," Gail said affably. She followed him down the hall to his room. Sam opened the bureau drawer to retrieve the pages as Gail walked over to his bed to look at the robe he had laying across the foot of it.

"Hey, is this a Hogwarts robe?" she asked him, picking it up to have a closer look.

Sam turned around, smiling. "Yeah," he told her. "Pretty cool, huh?"

"Yes, it is," Gail said sincerely. She held the robe up against herself. "In fact, I would totally steal it if there wasn't an extra three feet of robe below my knees."

"Dean makes fun of me for wearing it," Sam remarked.

She shrugged, putting the robe back on the bed. "Of course he does. That's what big brothers do. You and I need to form a support group for younger siblings."

Sam grinned, handing her the journal pages as Becky looked on from her vantage point in the hallway. She'd seen them leave the library and walk down the hall together, and she had been fuming when she saw the two of them go into Sam's room. Not that there would be anything going on, of course. The door was wide open, and all the two of them were doing was talking. Still, it made Becky mad. Gail already walked around the bunker as if she owned the place, and now she was walking into Sam's bedroom as if she belonged there, too. The nerve of her.

But Becky had better be really careful, here. Cas was God now, and Becky knew she'd better not say anything negative about Gail, or she'd be in big trouble. That didn't mean that Becky couldn't talk to Cas about her own situation, though, did it? Now that everything was OK again, there might not be a better time for Becky to cash in on her friendship with the reigning God. So she walked back out to the library area and asked Cas if she could talk to him alone for a minute.

Cas was surprised. He'd had no idea that Becky was so unhappy as an Angel. "But you realize that if you were a human again, you would be mortal?" he asked her hesitantly. "You would need to eat, and drink, and sleep, and urinate. That last thing was the thing I disliked the most."

"Yeah, I realize all that, Cas," she replied. "But it would be worth it to me."

His eyes were narrowed. "Why do you want to do this, Becky? What is the real reason?"

Well, Cas was no fool, that was for sure. But Becky knew him pretty well by now, and she was pretty sure she knew what would work on him. So she made herself start to cry.

"I worked for Patricia for a long time, ever since Bobby brought me to her office when I first got to Heaven," Becky told Cas. "She was a strict boss, but she was fair. But then, her personality changed. She became a real bully. Ask anybody, Cas. She was so mean to me, all the time. And then, when she became God, she was even meaner to me, because I was friends with you and Gail. But I didn't care. I wish I could have done more for you guys, but, did Gail tell you that I helped her get into Patricia's house when you were in jail?"

"Yes, she did," Cas responded with a tight smile. Becky was reminding him now of the fact that Gail had never given up on him. The last couple of days since Cas had been back, he and Gail had talked at length about the ordeal they had suffered at Patricia's hands. He had confided in his wife everything he could remember about his imprisonment, and Gail had told her husband about her attempts to free him. He'd had no idea. And she had finally succeeded. But if Gail hadn't persuaded Patricia to allow her to bring Cas to Earth to stop the rain, who knew where they would be right now?

Now Becky was reminding Cas that she had defied Patricia to help Gail, and she was asking Cas for a favour in return. But it was one hell of a big favour.

"I'll tell you what, Becky," Cas said to the girl now. "I'll talk to Gail about your request, and we'll get back to you."

This made Becky even angrier, and now, just to add to the fun, she saw Gail and Sam coming back into the room, and they were laughing together. What did Cas mean, he had to talk to Gail? HE was God, wasn't he? Why did he have to talk to HER? Becky made herself take a deep breath, and wisely, she held her tongue. He hadn't said no, so she'd better make sure to stay on Cas's good side for now. Correction: THEIR good side, she amended, mentally rolling her eyes.

Quinn had seen Gail and Sam coming back into the room too, and she was also struggling with her feelings about it. Sam had told Quinn that he was going to talk to Gail about Oliver and the journal, and Quinn was all for that, of course. If Oliver believed that he would finally be able to move on once Gail finished reading his journal, she might get her house back at last. But Quinn knew that deep down, Sam was still infatuated with Gail, and that part was hard for Quinn to handle.

"Hey, Quinn, how are you? I'm glad to see you here. We hardly ever talk anymore," Nicole said, approaching Sam's girlfriend. "Of course, it's hard to keep in touch when I'm constantly in different parts of the world. Lots of times, my time zone is pretty much completely opposite to this one. It's Bizarro World. Even Dean and I hardly ever talk these days." Then she lowered her voice, gazing pointedly at Quinn. "But when we do get together, I almost never try to rip his heart out of his chest and eat it."

Quinn's heart sank. "He told you about that, did he?"

"Yup," Nicole said, and then she smiled grimly. "I thought it was kind of funny, actually. But where the hell would something like that even come from, Quinn? I thought you liked me."

"I do," Quinn insisted, and she sighed. "See, this is why I don't have any friends, or can't sustain a relationship. I always end up saying something I shouldn't."

"Why would you even see something like that, though?" Nicole asked the psychic, puzzled.

"I don't know, Nicole," Quinn said uncomfortably. "It's not like I decide what to see, or anything. I see what I see." She was silent for a moment, and then she said, "Do you think there's any way we can try to forget about it, and move on?"

Nicole considered for a minute, and then she shrugged. "Sure, Quinn. Why not? If I can forgive those guys for not telling me that Dean was alive sooner, I don't see why not." Then she smiled slyly. "And I plan to forgive Dean's brains out, later tonight. It's been way too long for us." She appraised Quinn over the rim of her glass. "How are you and Sam doing in that department?"

Quinn looked across the room to where Sam and Gail were standing, talking to Cas now. Gail was giving Cas the journal pages and he was stashing them in the inside pocket of his blazer. Quinn realized she was being silly. Why shouldn't Gail and Sam have a laugh together? They'd been friends for quite a few years now. There was no way that anything could be going on between the two of them. Just look at the way that Gail was looking at Cas. Like he was the only man in the universe. Besides, Cas was God now. He'd have no choice but to smite Sam's ass a little if he found out that Quinn's boyfriend was having those kinds of thoughts about his wife. That mental image made Quinn feel a bit better about the whole thing.

"We're doing just fine," Quinn said in answer to Nicole's question. Nicole saw where Quinn was looking, and Dean's girlfriend laughed. "I wonder what it's like, having God for a husband," she said in a mischievous tone. "I wonder if there's a little more 'oomph' in the bedroom for those two, now."

"Look at the way she's looking at him. I'd say that's a pretty safe bet," Quinn replied with a faint smile.

Sam had finished talking to the couple now, and as he made his way back to where Quinn was standing, Nicole wandered over to talk to Chuck about the latest scenes he had sent them. Ethan was talking to Carolyn, and playing with baby Peter. He felt the familiar tug at his heart, and he listened with great interest when Bobby asked Cas, "So, what's the first order of business when we get back to Heaven, and how can I help?"

"I'll be going to the Garden, right away," Cas answered promptly. "There are a multitude of souls there that deserve immediate disposition."

Ethan's heart leapt. Unlike Patricia, Ethan was sure that Cas would send Ethan's family to him as soon as they were located.

Frank was listening avidly, too. He was planning to have a little chat with his brother-in-law on that very subject. But not tonight. This was a party.

Dean wandered over. "So, did Gail tell you that she nearly killed me and Rob and wrecked your car, the other day?" he asked Cas.

"Oh, no," Cas said, feigning surprise. "Is the car all right?"

Frank laughed. "You just moved further up the list, Cas."

"Oh, har, har," Dean retorted. "Your wife is one of the worst drivers I've ever seen."

"That can't be true," Cas said mildly, slipping his arm around Gail's waist. "She probably just needs to learn from someone who's got a little patience," he said to Dean. "I can teach them, if you like."

Dean snorted with derision. "Sure, if we want them to drive like my grandmother," he scoffed.

"It's OK, Cas. You're going to be busy in the Garden, anyway," Gail said to her husband. "I'll just tag along with Dean and Rob."

Dean groaned. "I thought you said you were giving up on learning how to drive."

Gail shrugged. "I think I've changed my mind. I really would like to learn how. And the fact that it torments you is just a wonderful bonus."

Liz elbowed Frank. "Hey, speaking of tormenting people, have you seen any good TV shows lately, Frank?"

Gail laughed, but the others looked puzzled. "What are you guys talking about?" Dean asked the female Angels.

"When we were growing up, there was a TV show that Frank liked a lot. Anyway, to make a long story short: One year, they had a murder mystery on the show. A bunch of people turned up dead, and it was said that there was a monster that was doing the killings," Liz explained.

"Really?" Rob remarked. "Cool. Even way back then, you were watching shows about monsters, huh, Dad?"

"Yeah, even wayyyyy back then, when the dinosaurs roamed the Earth," Frank said dryly. "It was just me, Cas, and a couple of protozoa."

"You realize you're talking about evolution with God standing right here, don't you?" Gail teased her brother.

"So, anyway, what about the TV show?" Dean asked, trying to bring them back to the topic.

Liz and Gail exchanged smiles. "Frank pulled a lot of stuff on us too, when we were kids. He used to hide in dark corners of the house and then jump out and scare us, for one thing. A lot. And he did other rotten stuff, too. So Gail and I got together and decided we weren't gonna take it anymore. So I came up with the theory that Frank's favourite character on the show was the monster that was doing all the killing, and when the season ended on a cliffhanger, we ran around all summer telling him that his hero was the monster."

"Drove me nuts," Frank said, rolling his eyes.

"Why?" Dean asked, puzzled. "It was just a TV show, and the guy was just a fictional character. So, so what?"

Frank glared at him, but somewhat unexpectedly, Cas said, "I can understand that. Now that I have been associated with the Supernatural franchise, however peripherally, I have noticed that the characters mean very much to their fans. They form emotional attachments to them, and they sometimes feel that they live or die with them. You can belittle that fact if you choose, but who are we to tell those people that they are wrong? Yes, there is a certain element who are delusional and cannot separate fantasy from reality, or who send death threats to the writers if things do not go their way..."

Chuck looked startled. He exchanged glances with Nicole and Laurel. Laurel smiled and took Chuck's hand, giving it an affectionate squeeze. She was so glad that Cas had let her come here with Chuck. Now, she could see why Cas and Gail had been so miserable when they had been banned from visiting Earth. They had a wonderful family here. There was a lot of teasing, but she could tell that it all came from a place of love.

Cas continued, "But, for every fan like that, there are many, many more for whom the show has been a transformative and mainly positive experience. The actors have told me that they have met many fans who have presented them with works of art that the show has inspired them to create, and there are thousands upon thousands of stories online that these people have poured their hearts and souls into. And the principal actors all have charitable foundations, which have done a lot of good in the world. Even the actor who plays Crowley has one," Cas added, his lips twitching in amusement. "For instance, the actor who plays my own character has made a real difference for his fellow men, and women, on Earth." Cas smiled gently. "So before you go too heavy on the criticism, Dean, please try to remember those things."

Everyone was silent for a moment, and then Chuck piped up, "What KIND of death threats, exactly?" This broke the mood, and everyone laughed.

Frank and Gabriel were standing by the bar, having a drink together. "So, was that THE olive branch? Really?" Frank asked the Archangel.

"Of course it is," Gabriel said, with a hint of coolness in his voice. "What, did you think I just went to some forest, picked up a stick, and gift-wrapped it?"

Frank looked at him speculatively. From what he'd heard about ol' Gabe from Sam and Dean, a part of Frank thought the Archangel might just have done that very thing. But then, he relented. Cas's reaction had suggested that the branch was the real deal.

"No, of course not," Frank responded quickly. "But, I've gotta congratulate you on a classic pun. That was epic, buddy."

Gabriel frowned slightly, puzzled. "What pun?"

"Now you're just being modest," Frank commented. "I 'Noah' guy'? Come on! That was fantastic! Worthy of me."

Gabriel nearly choked on his drink. That hadn't been a witticism on his part; at least, not consciously, anyway. Unbelievable. Not that he was ever going to admit to that, of course. "Thanks, Frank and beans. I was rather proud of that one." He lifted his glass in toast to Gail's brother.

"How many of those Frank-isms have you got?" Frank asked him, shaking his head with amusement.

"I don't know. I guess we'll find out," Gabe replied affably. He put his empty glass down in front of Frank. "Set me up again."

As Frank was making Gabe another drink, the Archangel was looking across the room at Liz. She had moved over to talk to Jody and Carolyn, who were each holding and feeding their babies now. Liz touched each child on the head, smiling gently.

"You know, now that Cas has given me the green light to visit Earth any time I want, I'm available to babysit," she told the women. "The great thing about having a celestial babysitter is you don't have to pay us, and we won't raid your fridge." The babies looked up at Liz, wriggling and gurgling happily.

"I'm totally gonna take you up on that," Jody said. "Frank and I need a night out, just us adults. We'll talk."

Gabriel smiled. He was watching Liz with the babies, watching the way they were reacting to her. There was just something about Liz that really appealed to him. She was sassy and mischievous, like Gail, but she also had a benevolent, Earth-mother quality about her. Gabe pretended to be a letch around her because that sort of thing was built into his personality, but in an ideal world, he would love to take her out on a date. But Gail had made it quite clear that Liz was still married, and she wasn't the kind to be unfaithful. And maybe it was just as well. Liz was almost a damn Saint. She ran around Heaven, helping her fellow Angels and volunteering for extra duty in the sectors of Heaven that most needed it. Not even Gail knew what Liz got up to half the time. But when Gabriel had mentioned that he wanted to get Cas something very meaningful as a gift and told her the kind of thing he had in mind, Liz had known exactly where to take Gabriel to get it. She was a beautiful soul, inside and out. And she was stacked, too. Although he'd better not ever say that out loud, or she and Gail would team up to knock him into next week. And, Archangel or not, he might just have to let them.

Gabriel smiled again when he looked at Gail. His little Kitten. She had been more like a tiger recently, but it had all been for a good cause. Now, things were the way they should be. Well, except for Raguel, and Ammit, and that other guy, of course. But that was a discussion for another day. Look at how happy everybody was right now.

Cas had his arms around Gail again, and the two of them were kissing. But, for a change, no one was giving them a hard time about it. It was just so great to have the two of them here, and to see them back together. Back to normal.

"A toast: to the new Boss of Heaven," Dean proposed, lifting his beer.

"And to her husband, too," Frank quipped, and they all laughed.

Everyone toasted, and the party continued.

"Wow, what a story, so far," Gail said. She was holding the journal pages, reading avidly. Every time she would finish a page, she would give it to Cas, and he would read what she had just read.

After the party had started to break up, they had returned to their suite in Heaven. They were on the couch at the moment, quietly reading. Sam had been fairly insistent that he thought they should read it as soon as possible.

Gail was reclining on a small pile of pillows at one end of the couch, and her feet were in her husband's lap. They had both been enthralled by the story thus far, but a slow sense of dread was building, as well.

"So, let's recap, so far," Gail said, holding the remaining pages in her lap. "One uncle I didn't know I had, Andy, got out of the mental institution, only to have him sign himself back in, a few years later. Oliver, who I met that one time with Sam, was also my uncle, but apparently, he forgot that little detail. That's what Sam said Oliver said. So, Oliver moves to Kansas, and he and that Cathy Scanlon get married. Now, the mystery man Vincent has come back, and he's been away in the Caribbean this whole time. Oliver sure doesn't seem happy to see him. But who can blame him? Vincent's the creep who killed their neighbour's dog, and pinned it on poor Andy."

Gail put the pages down in her lap, looking at her husband. "I'm a little scared to read any further, Cas. Sam's FBI guy was talking about there being no statute of limitations on murder, and I'm pretty sure he wasn't talking about a dog."

Cas's jaw set. She was right; he was sure of it. "Whatever happens, we'll handle it together, my love," he said, putting his hand on her leg and giving her a reassuring squeeze. "This man Vincent seems like a horrible individual, but he is just a man. Besides, he must be an older man, by now. Oliver was in his 70s when he died, was he not?"

"But that's the other thing, Cas. There's something about this whole chronology that doesn't add up. You saw Cathy. She's, what, in her thirties? How long ago is all of this stuff supposed to have taken place? What was she, a child when they got married? There's something really fishy here, Cas."

"Well, there's only one way to find out," Cas said. He gestured. "Here. Give me those pages. I will read to you what's contained in them, and then we can talk. Okay?"

"OK, Cas," Gail said, handing them over. She stretched her legs out across his lap, making herself comfortable. She always loved it when Cas read to her; although, she wasn't looking forward to hearing what was in those pages. They were about to find out about her father, the mysterious, sinister man who seemed to be in the background of everything.

Cas cleared his throat, and began to read.

VIGNETTE - STRANGE VOODOO

Vincent had been having the time of his life traipsing around the Caribbean.

After Andy had been committed to the looney bin and Oliver had moved out on his own, it had been just Vincent and the parents. But he was damned if he was just going to sit around rotting in their quiet suburban house. There was a whole world out there, and there were a boatload of pleasures to experience.

So, he had tied the couple up in the upstairs bedroom and threatened the old man until he told Vincent where all the assets were, including the safe in the office downstairs. Vincent had thanked him for the information, and then he had slit both of their throats. He'd always hated them, anyway. Then he had stood there in fascination, watching the life's blood flow out of their bodies. He'd been tempted to dip his fingers in it and taste it, just like he'd done with the neighbours' dog's blood. But in the end, he'd decided against it; not because of any crisis of conscience, of course, but simply because he'd been so eager to get started on his new adventure.

When he'd been a bit younger, Vincent had been an avid reader, whose tastes had leaned toward the darker side of things. Big surprise. He had read books about vampires, and black magic, and serial killers. But the subject that fascinated him the most was voodoo. He'd gone to the library and gotten every book he could find on the topic, and he had vowed to himself that when the time was right, he would go down to the Caribbean and investigate the art for himself.

So he'd flown down there with one suitcase full of clothes and the old man's life's savings, and he'd had to grease a few palms and charm a few people, but he'd finally started to make a few inroads.

Then he had met Placida, and his whole life had changed. He'd been sitting on a lounge chair on the beach watching the sun set over the water when she had come to sit beside him. He'd looked at her curiously. Vincent had seen her a few times around town here and there, but they'd never actually spoken, even though he had felt her eyes on him during those casual encounters. Vincent was accustomed to females checking him out by now. He had grown into his body and his looks, and now he was a lean, very handsome man, with an easy smile and a smooth line. He had bedded quite a few island girls since he'd been puddle-jumping from island to island, and the way that this woman was looking at him now, Vincent expected to be adding her to the list in a few minutes.

But she surprised him. As the sun was sinking over the horizon, she took a long drink from the bottle of rum she had nestled between her legs, and then she offered it to him. Vincent accepted the bottle from her, looking at the label.

Wow. This was almost straight-proof alcohol. True firewater. Yet she had taken a huge swig, without coughing, or sputtering. Interesting. He took a drink as well, but a smaller one, and then he passed the bottle back to her.

"So, you're interested in the local occult scene, are you?" she asked him, stretching out her legs on the chaise lounge. The lights on the boardwalk behind them had come on now that the sun had gone down, affording him just enough light to see the skirt hike up her leg when she did that. He appreciated the view.

"Yes, I am," Vincent told her quietly. "How did you know that?"

She shrugged. "Barnabas told me."

Vincent nodded. That didn't particularly surprise him. Every place he'd gone, Vincent had given one of the locals some money to put him in touch with the people who flew under the radar, and most times, the locals delivered. When Vincent had first gotten here, he had walked into a little hole-in-the-wall joint with the oddly quaint name of The Embarrassed Tiki, and there, Vincent had made Barnabas' acquaintance. He was a large black man who was both the bartender and the proprietor of the place. Once Vincent had bought a few drinks and dropped a few larger-denomination bills on the bar, Barnabas had told him that he could put him in touch with the right people.

But Placida laughed now, when Vincent told her that. "He runs a tourist trap, and he gave you a white man's answer," she said, taking another drink from the bottle. But she didn't offer it to him this time. She wanted him sharp, in case he gave her the kinds of answers she was looking for. Then she looked at him. "If you are really interested in learning the ways, I can teach you. But first, you have to tell me something: How far are you willing to go?"

Vincent was intrigued. "Who are you?" he asked her.

She shifted to look at him, and as she did so, she moved her leg, lifting her skirt even more, higher up towards her hips. "My name is Placida, and I am a voodoo Priestess," she told him.

"Placida?" he remarked, smirking. "That's an unusual name. Does that mean you're calm?"

"Sometimes," she said, her lips twitching. She took another drink. "Sometimes not. I think you would enjoy the other side of me more, if you're the type of man I think you are. So, I repeat: how far are you willing to go?"

"All the way," Vincent said, staring at her intently.

"How do you feel about the sight of fresh blood?" she asked him.

"Excited," he answered honestly.

Placida's heart quickened. "Would you be willing to do whatever it takes in order to live forever?" she persisted.

"Yes, I would," Vincent responded. "That's why I'm here."

"Really?" Placida said, raising an eyebrow. "What if I told you that I could help you become a High Priest, and that once you did, I could take you someplace that would make you immortal? What would you say then?"

"I would say give me another hit off that bottle, and then get over here and share this lounge chair with me," Vincent replied with a smile.

She got off her chair and approached him, looking down at him for a moment. Then she climbed on top of him, straddling him, pulling her skirt up on either side. Then she handed him the bottle.

"You will speak to me with respect, and you will follow my instructions to the letter, or I will end you," Placida said calmly. "Now, take a drink."

Vincent would normally be irate at being spoken to this way, but he could feel the power emanating from her now, and if she could deliver on her promises, he might be on the verge of something big, here. Either way, it promised to be a fun ride. She ground herself against him as he lifted the bottle to his lips. He took a sip, but then she cupped the bottom of the bottle with one hand and tilted it upwards. "I said, DRINK," she repeated. "If you can finish the rest of that bottle and then give me what I need, I will propose you for initiation. If not, I will make you march out to sea and drown yourself."

Vincent drank and drank, until the bottle was finished. Then she took it away from him and smashed it on the side of the chair. Placida grabbed the biggest shard of glass. "Unzip your pants," she said sternly. "Then tell me when you're ready, and I'll cut us both. Once our blood mingles, you will be beholden to me until we get to the Golden Cove. This is your last chance to back out."

He smiled.

"Ewwww," Gail said. "I can't believe that Vincent told Oliver all this stuff. So, he chased his brothers out of the house and then killed their parents. Wonderful. And now, he's going to become a voodoo Priest? Fantastic. Ladies and Gentlemen, my father. I feel so proud," she added sarcastically.

Cas's heart hurt for his wife. It was unbelievable. Every bit of information they were learning about her father was more horrifying than the last. "Do you want me to go on, my love?" he asked her softly.

"No," she replied. Then she sighed. "Yes."

Weeks passed, and once Placida deemed Vincent to be ready, she set up the initiation ritual. As soon as he was anointed a High Priest, they would be equals, and then they could proceed with the other part of the plan.

She smiled at him as he put on the tunic she had given him to wear for the ritual. "Papa Legbo would be proud," she said warmly. "You are indeed a worthy successor to the Crown of Skulls. And, after your initiation, I will take you to the Golden Cove, so that you and I can perform our own ritual there, the one that will make us both immortal."

Vincent smiled. How he liked the sound of that. A small part of him still had his doubts that she could really make them both immortal, but he had seen so many impossible things in the last few weeks during his tutelage that he supposed he couldn't rule anything out. He looked at himself in the mirror as Placida draped the necklace of skulls around his neck. He was young, and handsome, and in the prime of his life. If Vincent could just stop time at this point, he could go on to accomplish great things.

He strode over to the bed to put on the pants that he'd tossed there before he and Placida had had sex. "What are you doing?" she asked him.

"What's it look like?" he said irritably. Suddenly, he clutched at his throat. His airway was blocked, as if someone was strangling him. But Placida was still across the room.

"What did I say, the night we met?" she said sharply. "You will speak to me with respect. I will be the mother of your first child. I don't care how you will treat the others, but I will be giving you untold riches today. Now get down on your knees, and apologize to me."

She waved a finger, and Vincent sank down to his knees, still clutching at his throat. "That's better," she said, smiling, even though she'd made him do it. But she was so close, now. She really didn't want to kill him and start out with a fresh one, not if she could help it. She'd put so much work into this one. But he had done everything she'd instructed him to do, and he had done it all with gusto. She guessed she couldn't expect an Alpha male not to be an Alpha male. Frankly, that was the reason she'd chosen him in the first place. If he hadn't been virile and aggressively male, their arrangement would never work.

She waved her hand, approaching him. "Now, apologize."

"My most humble of apologies, Madame High Priestess," Vincent said hoarsely, once she'd opened up his throat again. His mind was reeling. The mother of his first child? What did she mean by that? Did it have something to do with the ritual? But he was so close, now. He'd find out soon enough.

"There you go," Placida said softly. "I merely meant that you will not be wearing pants, or underwear, during the ritual. But, do not worry. After the unbearable pain, should you live through it, will come intense pleasure. I promise."

Vincent's eyes widened slightly. The unbearable pain? What the hell did she mean by that? Did he really want to go through with this?

Placida smiled wickedly. She'd thought that might get his attention. "Are you still willing to do whatever it takes?" she asked him.

Vincent did not hesitate. "Yes, of course I am," he replied.

"Good. Now rise, and let's go," Placida said crisply.

They left the room and walked down to the beach. They stood near the spot where they'd first met, but further down the beach, out of sight of the boardwalk. More people began to arrive, and as the sun started to set, they built a bonfire. Once the sun was all the way down, the small crowd parted to admit an old black man into the circle. He waved his cane in the air, and all the lights on the boardwalk went out simultaneously, leaving them all with only the firelight and moonlight for illumination.

Placida knelt before the old man. "Thank you, Papa, for blessing us with your presence today," she told him.

"You're welcome, my child," he responded. "You may rise." As she did, he looked at Vincent. "So, this is the one you are proposing," the older man said, scrutinizing Vincent's face. "A white man. That's different." He moved closer to Vincent and straightened up, continuing to stare at Vincent until they were almost nose to nose. "Lift up your tunic," the old man instructed.

Vincent's forehead wrinkled. "What?!" he exclaimed. "Why? Longing for your younger days, old-timer?"

Papa Legbo smiled humourlessly. "Placida told me you have a smart mouth on you. Now, lift up your tunic, before I touch you with my cane and make you into a woman."

Vincent looked into the old man's eyes, and decided he wasn't kidding. Was this man the Papa Legbo that Placida had talked about, the grand old patriarch of their group? If so, he must be thousands upon thousands of years old.

Vincent's heart began to race as he lifted his tunic. Papa bent down to inspect Vincent's equipment. He seemed to approve, because after a moment, he straightened up and nodded his head.

"We will drink rum, and make the sacrifices," Papa announced to the group. "Then we will do the blood ritual, and then the initiation will begin."

The bottle was passed around, and then, the knife. Several of the cult members held live chickens upside down and cut off their heads, collecting the blood in buckets which were then passed around. Each member drank from the bucket and then dipped their fingers in, painting each other's faces and bodies with the warm, sticky substance.

When the bucket reached Vincent, he reached for it eagerly, but Papa Legbo said, "No. You are the initiant. Let the true ritual begin. Phineas, please come forward."

A very large black man came out from the middle of the group to where Papa, Placida and Vincent were standing. He had a sinister-looking black and red snake in one hand, and a large knife in the other.

"Take off your tunic, and lie down," Papa instructed Vincent. He looked at Placida. "Give him the bottle," the old man said to her. Vincent stripped off his tunic and grabbed the bottle of rum. He took a swig, then lay down naked on the sand, eyeing Phineas uneasily. He got the feeling that this next part wasn't going to be pretty.

"In order to become a High Priest, you must have the dark spirit within you," Papa said, looking down at Vincent. Phineas knelt down beside him, holding the knife at the ready. Vincent could see the snake squirming in Phineas's large fist. Its glittering eyes seemed to be staring at him speculatively.

"Begin," Papa said, and Phineas stabbed Vincent in the stomach. Then he brought the knife down, opening up the wound. He stuffed the snake inside, as Vincent screamed. Then Phineas crushed the snake's head with his powerful hands, milking its venom into Vincent's stomach. Then he withdrew the snake, throwing its carcass into the bonfire. Papa stepped forward and touched his walking stick to the wound, sealing it instantly.

Vincent lay there for a moment, breathing heavily. Wow. Placida hadn't been kidding. That HAD been excruciating. But it was over now, and as he got up slowly from his prone position, he could see that he was none the worse for wear.

Placida handed Vincent his tunic and he put it on. Then she kissed him, using her tongue. "You are strong, and you are worthy," she said reverently. "And, in a few moments, you will be a God."

"It's time for the final test," Papa announced. "Feel the darkness course through your veins, and then you will be happy to do what needs to be done. Close your eyes."

So Vincent did, and he could feel the rush from the snake's venom go through his body. It felt like someone had injected him with about ten vials of high-grade amphetamine. He felt himself getting aroused.

"There will be time for that in a moment," Papa said, bemused. "But, your own blood ritual must be performed now. Phineas?"

The man had retreated back to the outside of the circle, but he came back now, carrying a travel bag. He set it down on the sand and bent down to open it.

Vincent knew what was in the bag even before he saw it. Phineas handed the baby to Papa Legbo, who held it out towards Vincent. "Once you do this, you will achieve the rank of High Priest, and become Papa Legba. You will be my Son, and you will be my successor."

Phineas handed the knife to Vincent, who took it and slashed the baby with it. The infant was wriggling in Papa's arms. It was strangely silent, though, even as Vincent began to carve up its little body. Placida put the bucket under the baby to catch the blood, but of course, there wasn't much of it. It was just a newborn, after all...

"Stop it, Cas!" Gail exclaimed, agitated. "I don't want to hear any more! I can't stand it. Next, you're going to tell me that he drank that poor baby's blood, and then he bathed in it, and then they danced around the fire and had a damn orgy, aren't you? What is the point of all this, Cas? What's the point?" She was crying now. He put the pages down and drew her to him, embracing her.

"I don't know," he said soberly. But, Cas was wondering now: If this man went all the way through the initiation, which he surely would have done, he would be a high-ranking practitioner of the dark arts, all right. But it was the allusion to immortality that was bothering Cas now. "I must read the rest, just to see what we might be up against," he told Gail softly. "But I do not have to do so out loud. You have been through enough." He wiped a couple of tears from her cheeks with his thumb.

Gail smiled tremulously, kissing him gently on the cheek. "Thank you, sweetie. But, no. I can't hide my head in the sand and pretend this guy doesn't exist. He's out there somewhere, and if he's this evil, I'd better find out what we're dealing with, too."

"I will protect you with all of the powers of the Office," Cas told her solemnly. "Immortal or not, he will not touch you. I swear it."

Gail kissed him again, and then she sighed. "Read on, please."

Cas glossed over the remainder of the ritual, which was recorded on the pages exactly as Gail had surmised. "This is rather interesting," he said impassively. "Vincent told Oliver that he spoke in tongues after the ritual was concluded, and he had visions. He also believed that what he had experienced that night gave him the ability to make better decisions, to persuade people to do his bidding, and to feel physical sensations more intensely."

Gail frowned. "Well, whoopie-doo. I guess the next time I'm trying to decide what to wear, or talk you into something, I just need to kill a baby, then, and then my decisions will be easy." But she put her hand on his arm immediately after she'd said it. "I'm sorry, sweetie. That was harsh. I just can't believe that guy. Sorry. Go ahead."

Cas nodded. He guessed he'd sounded a little callous, as well. But he had lived through many eras of religious persecution and inquisitions, brutal wars, and torture. Naturally, he was appalled by what Vincent and those people had done, but he'd seen similar things before. In fact, he'd seen worse. He'd even seen his dear, sweet wife pick up a knife and plunge it into a child when she'd been under the influence of Crowley's Demon blood, way back when she and Castiel had first met. They'd found out later that a Demon had been inhabiting the child's body, but it had torn Gail up inside for years afterwards. Cas wasn't about to bring up the parallel his mind's eye had conjured up when he'd thought about her, being her father's daughter. But there were a multitude of questions bouncing around in his head now. Every time they turned around, Crowley's name seemed to be associated with this man, be it through fact, visions, or supposition. Also, Cas made a mental note to ask Sam to do some research on voodoo cults in the Caribbean.

But the biggest surprise was yet to come, and it was the most astonishing thing Cas had ever heard of.

After the ritual, Placida had taken Vincent by the hand and led him further down the beach. "Now I will show you the secret, Papa Legba," she said. She slipped out of her dress and extended her hand to him. "Let's go for a swim."

Vincent took off his tunic and dropped it on the sand beside her dress. He took her hand and they waded into the water together. "Follow me," she said. It was extremely dark, but now that they were Priest and Priestess, their bodies were in sync with each other, and Vincent knew automatically the direction she was heading in.

They swam quietly for a while until they reached a secluded cove. Placida stopped, treading water, and she put her arms around his neck. "Join with me now," she told him.

Vincent was puzzled, but he had absolutely no problem doing that. Ever since he had completed the ritual, he'd felt energized, like he could go for days. He grabbed her by the hips and entered her, and after a couple of minutes, he was amazed to see that the waters around them were turning gold in colour.

Placida was smiling. "Once you finish, and put a baby inside of me, the magical properties of the water will combine with your seed. Then we will drink of the waters, and then, we will be immortal, as long as our child lives. And then, going forward, every child you sire will extend your life exponentially. As long as your progeny live, so will you. Your fluid will heal, and it will also prolong life. Now, let's make a baby."

Gail's head was reeling. This was the biggest load of..."Do you believe this stuff?" she asked Cas, incredulous.

He was frowning. "I'm afraid that I do," he acknowledged. "It sounds to me as if they swam in the waters that were originally discovered by the indigenous peoples of the Caribbean, during the early Age of Exploration. In later years, the explorer Juan Ponce de Leon became associated with the search for those waters, but he was misled, and he ended up looking in the wrong place."

Her mouth fell open. "You're talking about the Fountain of Youth, Cas."

Cas smiled, despite the subject matter of the discussion. "Yes, I am. I'm impressed that you would know that, but I shouldn't be surprised. You are a very intelligent, well-read woman."

His compliment warmed her heart, even as her blood ran cold when she thought about the implications of what they were discussing. "So, let me get this straight," she said, still trying to wrap her head around what she had been hearing. "This scumbag is basically going to live forever, as long as his children do?"

"So it would seem," Cas said soberly.

"How many kids has this guy fathered?" she said, alarmed. Cas was frowning. He wasn't sure there was even a way to find that out. How long ago had this incident they were reading about taken place? The journal didn't say, exactly.

"I'M one of his kids, Cas," Gail pointed out in a hushed tone.

Cas shook his head quickly. "That should not matter. You are an Angel now. So, technically speaking..."

"I'm not alive," Gail finished for him. "OK, fair enough. But, Cas...as far as we know, Rob is one of his kids, too."

Cas tensed. He had not thought of that. "We don't know that for a fact, Gail," he said gently.

She let out a frustrated breath. That was true, but Rob's visions had never been wrong, not to her knowledge. "What do the rest of the pages say?" she asked her husband.

There were only a few pages left. Cas scanned them now. "When Vincent came back from the Caribbean, he tracked Oliver down. He told Oliver everything, and his brother made note of the story here in his journal. Their brother Andy was already back in the mental hospital at this point in the narrative. Then Vincent had an affair with Cathy, Oliver's wife, and when Oliver found out about it, he forced Cathy to leave their home. But he did not confront Vincent. I suppose he was afraid of his brother, and of his powers. Apparently, Cathy had wanted a baby, but when Oliver could not or would not give her one, she turned to Vincent, instead. But Cathy must have been barren, because Oliver records here that she never became pregnant." Cas frowned again. "However, according to Oliver, Vincent struck up a deal with Cathy to broker the babies he brought her, and Vincent told Oliver that if his brother ever told anyone about any of this, Vincent would skin Cathy alive. Oliver was so frightened by Vincent and his threats that his last entry here says that he would no longer keep a written record of anything. I suppose that's why he ended up redacting these pages. But now, I think we have the answer to one of the questions that we had. I posit that is why Cathy looks so young: Vincent must be keeping her so. He is probably using a formula to keep her youthful, because she is of use to him. Obviously, she is farming out his unwanted children to desperate couples."

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Cas realized how insensitive that must have sounded. Gail had been one of those unwanted children. "Oh, my darling," he said, reaching out to hold her. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean that. I didn't mean that at all."

Gail snuggled against him, enjoying being held by him. "Thank you, sweetie," she said. "But I have to say, that doesn't hurt my feelings as much as it should, if I'd had some normal parents." She sighed. "I wonder if I even want to know anything about my real mother, then. Who do you suppose SHE is? Eva Braun?"

Cas frowned deeply, but he said nothing for the moment, mainly because there was nothing to say. But after a few minutes, he did speak again. "I had intended to go to the Garden first thing in the morning, to start liberating some souls who have been stuck there for entirely too long. But if you tell me you need me, I will not go."

She touched his face. "You're very sweet, but, no. Those poor people need some resolution. I'll be fine, Cas. I think I might go to Earth and have a talk with Rob. Or maybe I'll take a few minutes and see if Sam and Dean can take me to Quinn's, so I can talk to Oliver. I'd love to have you with me, but I can't make all those people wait just because I need my hand held. I'll be OK, Cas. Really."

He took her hands in his. She was so brave. "All right, my love. But if you need me, please call me on our frequency, and I will come immediately. Okay?"

"OK, Cas," she said, smiling. "I pity anyone who tries to mess with God's wife."

"That's right," he said firmly.

"I love you, sweetie," she told him. "Let's go watch some TV." Then she took his hand, smiling. "Eventually."

Cas smiled back, and then he winked them into the bedroom.


	4. Tryin' To Get To Heaven

Chapter 4 - Tryin' To Get To Heaven

Cas and Gail parted ways in the morning. As she had advised, she had decided to go down to the bunker to see if Sam and Dean could take her to Quinn's place, to talk to Oliver. She could let him know that she had finished reading his journal, and ask him any questions she might have before releasing him from Quinn's house. Gail had promised to call Cas immediately if his help was needed for anything. It was only after he'd received that assurance from her that he was able to let her go. She would be in good hands with the Winchesters.

Meanwhile, there were a number of people on Cas's list that he wanted to attend to personally. The problem was, when he sent out The Eye to look in the Garden, the first person he was looking for wasn't there.

Gail explained to Sam that she was flying solo today, and Sam smiled. "Maybe it's just as well. Oliver's an Atheist. Remember?"

She was taken aback for a moment, and then she did remember that when she had initially met the man, that was what he had said. She had to keep reminding herself that the whole Demon thing had never happened. So as it turned out, the only time she had met Oliver aside from watching him die in that theatre in L.A. was years ago, when Sam had taken her to what was Oliver's house at the time. She'd thought that Oliver had been looking at her strangely because she was an Angel, but perhaps there had been more to it than that. He had been a psychic, hadn't he? Maybe he had sensed that they were related, even though neither of them would have known it at the time.

But now, Gail couldn't help but laugh at the idea of taking God to see an Atheist. As it was, she wondered, if Oliver was able to move on, exactly where would he go? How many millions of souls were waiting in the Garden, and how was Cas going to decide who went where? But her head started to hurt when she thought too much about that, so she stopped. Maybe it was just as well she hadn't been elected, after all.

"Come on, Dean!" she called down the hall. "Let's go!"

"Keep your wings on," he said, coming down the hall to the library area where she and Sam were waiting. He looked around. "Hey, where's the Almighty? I thought maybe he'd be picking us up in a white limo, or something."

Gail rolled her eyes. "Really? Why, are you scared that if I get into Baby, I'll want to drive?"

Dean gave her a sarcastic smile. "Go down the hall to the weapons room, get the shotgun, and pump about ten shells into me. Then, do the same to Sammy. And THEN you can drive my car."

Gail grinned. "Nahhh, forget it. You'd just be ascended, and then you'd be running around Heaven, harassing me for all eternity. Drive on, MacDuff."

They walked to the garage and got into the Impala. Gail was still smiling. It had been ages since she'd ridden in this car. She recalled all the other times she'd been in the back, either alone, or with Cas.

Dean turned on the ignition, and the radio blasted on immediately. "Dude! Come on!" Sam objected. Dean snapped off the radio, prompting a look of surprise from his brother.

"I wanna hear about what was in that journal," Dean said, pulling the car out of the garage.

Gail sighed. "I'm not sure you do," she said, making a face. But she started to tell them the story, and by the time she got to the part about the snake, Dean had nearly driven into the ditch on the two-lane road.

"Get outta here!" Dean exclaimed. "They cut him open and put a snake in him? You're making that up!"

"Actually, that's pretty plausible," Sam remarked. "There are lots of cult rituals that involve the handling and milking of snakes."

"God! Shut up!" Dean said, screwing his face up in disgust. Gail smiled faintly. She remembered that Dean had a "thing" about snakes. "That's the grossest, most disgusting thing I've ever heard," Dean continued, shaking his head vigorously as if to get the image out of his brain.

Gail made another face. "You'd think so, wouldn't you? But, fasten your seat belt. Well, so to speak. You may have to pull over to puke once I tell you the rest of it."

Once she'd finished the entire story, the brothers were silent for a moment, digesting what she'd said. They'd seen and heard a lot of really bizarre things in their lifetimes, but this one might just be the topper.

"I know, right?" Gail said quietly. "I really think we need to run some kind of Suckiest Dad competition. I'd win, every year."

As soon as Dean parked on the sidewalk in front of Quinn's house, they all got out of the car and Sam pulled Gail to him immediately for a hug. Then Dean shouldered his brother aside, and did the same.

"Thanks," Dean said to her.

"What for?" Gail asked him, puzzled.

"For making our dad look like Father Of The Year," Dean wisecracked.

"Shut up, Dean," she said automatically, and the two of them exchanged a smile.

"Let's go see your uncle, the ghost," Sam said, joining in the banter. "Are you sure you guys aren't the Addams Family? Maybe you should dress up like Morticia for Hallowe'en."

Dean smirked. "Can you picture Cas as Gomez? We'll have to get him a cheesy moustache."

"Sounds good to me," Gail said, looking up at the two brothers. "I'll just sit in a big chair and he can kiss me all the way up and down my arms. You guys won't mind the sight of that, will you?"

Dean frowned. "On second thought, maybe we'll just stick your hand in a box and you can be Thing, instead."

"Fine, but I can't guarantee which finger I'll be using when I point things out to you," she retorted.

The three of them laughed, and Quinn opened the door to greet them.

Cas couldn't believe it. He'd spent all that time looking for Paul in the Garden, and here Paul was, in Purgatory.

As soon as The Eye had detected Paul in the forest, fighting off a pack of werewolves, Cas popped into the realm to help in the fight. But now that Cas was God, it wasn't much of a contest. As soon as he appeared, all Cas had to do was wave his arm at the whole pack. The white light shot out from his fingertips and the monsters all fell to the forest floor, dead.

Paul stared at him, open-mouthed. "Well, that's new," he remarked, trying to play it cool. "Where were you earlier, when I was running from that Leviathan?" Then he frowned. "I'm sorry to see you here, Castiel. How's our little lady bearing up? Who was the dirty bastard that got you?"

Cas looked at him, bemused. Paul obviously thought that Cas was dead, and that he had been slated for Purgatory to do some penance. Not an unreasonable assumption, considering. But he told Paul that he was God now, and Paul's jaw dropped again. "Holy moly," he said softly. "Now I'm glad I didn't yell at you, when you first got here. Hey, at the risk of sounding too Biblical, will you walk with me to the water? I need to get washed up. Especially if I'm in the presence of the Almighty. I guess my African brothers and sisters were ahead of their time on that one."

Cas smiled. "I'll tell you what. I'll do you one better, as the expression goes. How would you like to wash up in the waters of the Garden, instead?"

Paul started to smile.

The four of them were sitting around the seance table holding hands, but it was more or less just a formality. As soon as they'd all sat down, Oliver appeared.

"I'm glad to see you," Oliver said to Gail immediately. "Have you read it?"

"Yes, I have," she told him. "It's one hell of a story. So, how much of it is actually true?"

"All of it," he said, agitated.

"Great," she remarked wryly. "I was really hoping you were going to tell me you were just trying to write a script for a horror movie."

"I'm sorry, but, no," he said, with a hint of irritation in his voice now. She wasn't the only one who was affected by this whole thing, and he didn't like his veracity being called into question.

"Do you have any questions for Oliver?" Quinn asked Gail.

"Only about a million," the Angel sighed. "But the first thing I want to know is: Is Rob my half-brother?"

"Rob? Who's Rob?" Oliver asked her.

"We think he's one of the kids your ex-wife sold, Uncle Ollie," Dean said sarcastically.

"I had nothing to do with that entire operation," Oliver said, raising his voice.

"Why didn't you tell Gail about any of this before?" Sam said angrily. "Or me, even? I've known you for years!"

Quinn looked at her boyfriend. His jaw was clenched, and he had squeezed her hand a little too tightly for a moment. Actually, there was no need for any of them to be holding hands, she realized. Oliver was practically her roommate by now. She extricated her hand from Sam's, and then they all followed suit.

"I told you; I didn't know," Oliver said in a sulky voice. "I'm the victim, here. My brother came into my house, announced that he was a High Priest of voodoo, and broke up my marriage. He told me he'd killed our parents, and he would kill me too, if I told anyone! So, I wrote it all down in my journal, but after I did that, he was looking at me strangely, saying I'd better not cross him, or we'd all regret it. So I redacted what I had written, and then he waved some kind of weird-looking bag over my head, and then I forgot all about...everything."

Dean looked at his brother. "Hex bag?" he asked Sam.

Sam gave him a half-shrug. "Maybe. I'll have to do some research. See if I can find any voodoo cults that use those."

"I'm sorry, Gail," Oliver said now, in a more subdued voice. "I'm sorry you had to find out this way. And I'm sorry you have such a poor excuse for a family."

Gail sighed. "OK, Oliver. I know it's not your fault. But, do you know anything about Vincent now? Like, where he is, or what he's doing?"

"Have you talked to Andy? Or Abigail?" Oliver asked.

"Where is Andy now? Is he still in the mental hospital? And who's Abigail?" Gail said, curious.

"I have to go," Oliver said abruptly. He disappeared and suddenly, the room was plunged into darkness. Quinn rose from her chair, intending to open the drapes and turn on the lights, but she was slammed back into her seat by an invisible force. Then, Sam yelled loudly. He'd had his hands splayed out on the table, and now, he felt two knives sinking into his flesh, one per hand, pinning him to the table. The pain was excruciating. Dean tried to vault from his chair towards Sam, but he was restrained by something that was wrapping itself around his neck. His hands flew to his throat as he sought to loosen the garrote, but the more he struggled, the tighter it became.

Gail pulled her blade out of her pocket and said the Enochian words to light up the tip. By its faint glow, she could make out Quinn, struggling to get up from her chair. Poor Sam was pinned to the table by two daggers, one in each hand, and he was grimacing in pain. Dean was clutching at his throat, trying to loosen a leather strap that was crushing his windpipe.

"Let my friends go!" Gail shouted.

"Now, why on earth would I want to do that?" Vincent said, with amusement in his voice.

Cas and Paul were standing by the stream in the Garden now. Paul was washing the dirt and blood from his hands and face. Then he stood, stretching his body, and looked around. "I sure do prefer it here," he said to Cas. "Nobody lurking behind a tree, looking to kick your ass."

"It is very serene," Cas agreed. They were silent for a moment, and then he said, "I'm a little bit puzzled, Paul. I don't know why you were in Purgatory again."

"YOU don't know?" Paul said, raising an eyebrow. "One minute I'm sacrificing myself to Lucifer to save our little Boo, and the next minute I'm in Purgatory, fightin' off monster after monster and wondering how long the road to redemption really is."

Cas gave him a thin smile. "Well, you'll be glad to know that we vanquished Lucifer, and everyone is fine. You helped us quite a lot, and I am personally beholden to you for saving our 'Boo', a couple of times," he said, his lips twitching.

"Well, Yissa? What are we waiting for, then? Let's go," Paul urged.

But Cas was frowning now. Maybe he was being a little hasty. Why wouldn't Paul have already been waiting in the Garden? "What are you not telling me, Paul?" he asked the man.

"Why? What do you mean?" Paul asked, and now there was a bit of an edge to his voice. "Nothing!"

"Then why were you in Purgatory? You should have been here, in the Garden," Cas said, thinking furiously. "I even went back to the mansion and took your vessel back to my old Board office in Heaven, in preparation for your ascension."

"I appreciate that, Castiel, but if that's the case, then, where the hell have you been all this time?" Paul fumed. "I've been fighting - "

"Yes, yes, I know. You already told me," Cas interrupted him. "But, there has to be a reason you were sent to Purgatory again, instead of here."

"Well, I'll be damned if I know what it is," Paul said, frustrated. "If you're God, shouldn't YOU know? Look, Cas, I don't know what more you could want from me. I helped you out in Paris, and in Romania, then with the death squads, AND in Lucifer's mansion. I died twice for you, alone. Even Malcolm X and Dr. King only had to die once! And then, I STILL go to Purgatory? What the hell kind of b.s. is that? If I was white, I would have already been in Heaven by now!"

Cas let out a frustrated breath. "Perhaps I made a mistake by bringing you here. I had thought that we would have been beyond discussion of race, by now."

"That's because you're looking at it from the white side of things," Paul shot back.

Cas had opened his mouth to fire something back in return when he got the urgent call from Gail on their frequency. "I'll be back. Stay right here," he ordered Paul sternly. Then he disappeared, as Paul stood there, gaping.

"You're an inquisitive little thing, aren't you?" Vincent said to Gail. He was standing across the table from her behind Sam and Dean, holding his hands up above their heads, as if they were marionettes he was controlling. "Asking questions that are none of your business. When I'm ready for you, my daughter, I will call you, and you will come. Until then, keep your nose out of my affairs."

"You obviously don't know me very well," she retorted. "I don't know who the hell you think you are, but you don't scare me."

"Really?" Vincent said. "Well, aren't you cute." He rotated his wrists, and the knives in Sam's hands twisted. Sam grunted in pain. Dean's collar twisted, and he made a strangled noise.

Gail pointed her blade at Vincent, and the golden ray shot out of its tip when she spoke the ancient language again. She pointed the beam at Vincent's left hand, burning a hole in his palm. Immediately, the leather garrote sprang off Dean's neck, and he started to cough and retch.

Then Gail pointed the laser beam at Vincent's other hand, doing the same thing, and the knives in Sam's hands stopped twisting.

Vincent flung his arms out towards Gail, and the ray of light extinguished from her blade. Then he stared at her, smiling slowly. "She likes to play. Excellent," he said. Then he crooked his finger. "Come here, my daughter."

Gail popped herself over to the other side of the table, charging Vincent. She shoved him against the wall and put her blade to his throat. Still, he was smiling. Oh, well. That was all right. She was used to enemies not taking her seriously. If this was the movies, she and her father would exchange ominous, vague threats. Then Vincent would overpower her and then disappear, or hold her hostage, or something. But if anybody, even Chuck or Metatron, tried to write Gail's life as a movie script, nobody would believe that this kind of crap kept happening to her. When was enough going to be enough, already?

She flipped the blade in her hand to change the grip as Cas had taught her how to do, and she was astonished for a split second when she was successful. Every time she and Cas had practiced the move, she had fumbled, and dropped the blade. Every damn time.

But there was no time to rejoice. Gail had the blade gripped firmly in her fist now, and she drove it into Vincent's chest where his black heart would be, with every ounce of Angel oomph she had. His mouth fell open in surprise, and he yelled in pain.

Dean pumped his fist in victory, though he was still unable to speak. He was still having some trouble breathing, even though his throat was no longer blocked.

Sam was still pinned to the table, but he would have still tried to struggle free if he'd thought that Gail had needed his help. But she seemed to be doing just fine. He watched as she gave the knife a twist, to inflict maximum pain and damage, and then a wiggle, to pull it out of the guy's chest. Despite the massive amount of pain he was in, Sam grinned briefly. If Vincent thought that Gail would be a cream puff due to her big brown eyes and diminutive size, he had sure found out differently. Now Gail would finish him off, and they could get on with their other business.

But that didn't happen, of course. They had all forgotten, in the heat of the moment. When Gail pulled the knife out of Vincent's chest and drew her arm back to inflict another stab wound, Vincent grabbed her knife hand with his bleeding, holey one. "I thought you had read my brother's magnum opus," he said calmly. "Points for trying, though." He was staring deeply into her eyes. "Take that knife you're so fond of, and cut yourself on the cheek with it. Not a big cut; just enough for you to bleed."

Gail laughed shortly. "I don't take orders from you, you baby-killing bastard."

"No?" Vincent said mildly. "We'll see about that." He flung his free arm in Dean's direction and a big black and red snake appeared on the floor in front of Dean's chair.

"That snake answers to me, and me alone," Vincent said to Gail. "It has the poison of a thousand snakes in just one drop of its venom. Your friend would be dead before he even hit the floor. Even your Sainted husband would be unable to save him. And if you tried to use the revival spell on him again, he would come back as a drooling, raving lunatic. Now, cut your cheek. I will not tell you again."

Gail brought the knife up towards herself, scrunched up her face, and raked the tip down her cheek. Then Vincent put his bloody palm on her bleeding cheek.

"My blood is your blood, and your blood is my blood," he said. "You will come, and you will do as I say. But, I have to tell you that I am very impressed with what you have shown me here today." He bent forward, bringing his face closer to hers. Gail had stopped struggling now. She couldn't seem to look away from his eyes.

Vincent licked the blood from her cheek. "When you get to the designated place, I might just have to see if you're this feisty with your clothes off. That might be the only taboo I haven't broken, yet."

Gail screamed in her head for Cas to come. She'd thought she could handle this guy by herself, and she almost had. But now he had mesmerized her somehow, and he was in total control at the moment. Cas needed to put Vincent down, before things got even more out of hand.

An instant later, there was a blinding flash of white light. Vincent was flung away from Gail, clear across the room. He hit the wall with a crash as Cas strode towards him, blade in hand. Before Gail had the chance to say anything, Cas had already stabbed Vincent in the chest, three times.

Gail's father smiled. "What an Alpha couple you are. Very intense, Castiel. I was hoping to be able to meet with you, face to face. That was the whole point of this little exercise. My daughter is a magnificent creature, isn't she? And you're no less impressive, yourself. But you realize, of course, that I'm immortal, right? God or not, you can't kill me."

"Oh, no? Well, let's test that theory, shall we?" Cas said sarcastically. He put his hand on Vincent's head and the bright white glow came out again, suffusing Vincent's body. Vincent screamed, and the occupants of the seance room could smell his flesh burning. Cas kept his hand there for several minutes, and then he finally removed it.

Vincent's body was smoking, but he was grinning. "That was fantastic," he remarked. "Very Godlike, Castiel. Or, do you prefer Cas? You're sexy when you get angry. But I'm sure my daughter has already told you that. She IS my daughter, after all."

Cas stabbed Vincent several more times, then applied another smiting. And still, the man grinned his horrible grin. "You cannot kill me, Cas," Vincent said happily. "As long as any of my children live, so will I. And, that's one hell of a lot of children. I'm not even sure myself, but I might have hit triple digits, by now. Yet, not one Father's Day card. Ungrateful little bastards."

Cas's jaw was working now. It was a good thing that God couldn't have a stroke, because he was so angry that he felt like every blood vessel in his head was going to explode, all at once. He stabbed Vincent again, then twisted the knife viciously.

"You disappoint me," Vincent said disdainfully. "I thought you realized: you can do that until your arm grows tired, but you cannot kill me."

"I know," Cas said, smiling slowly. The glint came to his eyes, and then he twisted the knife again, and then pulled it down. "I also happen to know that what I'm doing to you now is extremely painful, and I am happy to continue doing it."

Vincent faltered for a moment. Castiel was right; the pain was excruciating. Vincent had received expert training in pain suppression from Placida, and then, at Papa Legba's hands, but it was obvious that Castiel was no stranger to torture, either. And there was that look in his eyes, and that smile. This was God?

"Things are about to get a lot more interesting," Vincent said, as calmly as he could. He grinned once more, then snapped his fingers and disappeared, before he could give away how much pain he was in.

Everyone let out a breath. "Are you all right?" Cas said, rushing over to Gail. He put his hand on her cheek, healing her cut. "Are you otherwise hurt?"

"No, Cas," she assured him.

"Cas..." Dean said in a strangled voice. His friend turned around.

The black and red snake was still there on the floor in front of where Dean was sitting, and it was coiled up, weaving from side to side, as if preparing to strike at any moment.

Cas threw his blade down on the floor. "I apologize in advance, my love," he said to Gail. He said the off-colour Enochian phrase, and his blade turned into a snake. It attacked the snake that was menacing Dean, and killed it. Then Cas spoke the phrase in reverse, and the snake turned back into his blade. He bent and picked it up as Dean rasped, "Thanks, buddy."

"Sweetie, can you help me out here, please?" Gail said now. She had rushed over to help Sam while Cas was helping Dean, but she couldn't get the knives out of the table; they were imbedded too deeply. And she didn't want to wriggle them around to try to loosen them. Poor Sam had sat there stoically this whole time, but he had beads of sweat on his forehead, and he was grimacing with pain.

Cas snapped his fingers, and both the knives in Sam's hands and the snake's carcass disappeared. Gail looked at him with wide eyes. That was new. Then she immediately turned to Sam, and took his hands in hers. He winced. "I'm sorry, Sam," she said, making a face. The golden glow came from her hands and healed him, and they both breathed a sigh of relief, smiling at each other. "Let me see?" Gail said to him, and he held his hands up in front of her, flexing them. They both smiled again. Then she ran her hands over him, cleaning up the blood.

Quinn was crying, and Sam went to comfort her as Gail approached Cas and Dean. Cas put his hand gently around Dean's throat, and the white glow came out, healing Dean's vocal cords.

"Are you OK, Dean?" Gail asked him. He cleared his throat experimentally. "Yeah, I think so," he told her.

"Check his pants. I think he might have crapped them, when that snake showed up," Sam wisecracked, and Dean popped him the middle finger.

"You know what? Sometimes, I really miss Lucifer," Gail quipped. There was stunned silence for a moment. "What? Too soon?" she persisted. Finally, Dean smirked, and he pulled her to him for a hug. "I swear, you and Frank must be related, somehow," he said to her.

"You should have seen Gail, Cas," Sam said to their friend. "She stood right up to him. You would have been proud of her."

"What happened here?" Cas said angrily. They all started telling him about the sudden and scary appearance of Gail's father, and what he had said and done. Cas's eyes flashed.

"Then she called him a baby-killing bastard," Dean said, with pride in his voice. "And then he conjured up that freakin' snake, and he told her that she had to cut herself, or he was gonna have it attack me."

"So I debated for about half an hour, and then I cut myself," Gail joked. Man, she wished Frank was here. He was missing some really good ones.

Cas was appalled, and his mood didn't improve when Gail told him what Vincent had said and done after that. He took her hand and squeezed it gently.

"And that's when you got here," Sam finished.

Cas put his arms around Gail and pulled her close. He couldn't believe it. What a truly horrifying experience that must have been. "I'm so sorry, my darling," he said softly. "I should have been here with you, from the very beginning."

She pulled out of the embrace, looking at his face. "No, sweetie. What you're doing is very important. I'm just sorry I had to pull you away from it."

"That's all right," he replied. "I was at a bit of an impasse, anyway. Once we're done here, I want you to come with me. Maybe you can help me solve the dilemma I was having when you called."

Gail eyed him suspiciously. Was that just an excuse to keep her with him? Then she realized that she didn't really care. This incident had actually scared her very badly. Now that the adrenaline had worn off, she was starting to tremble.

"Here," he said, pulling out the nearest chair for her. "Sit down. Please." Cas seated his wife, and then he looked at Quinn. "Are you all right, Quinn?"

Sam's girlfriend nodded slowly. "I guess so, Cas. But I think I'm regretting my choice of careers right now, though."

"I'm sorry, everyone," Oliver said, reappearing suddenly in the middle of the room.

"Explain yourself," Cas said angrily.

"I can't control what my brother does," Oliver protested. "No one can."

"Well, anyway, now that Gail's read your journal, we should be able to put you to rest," Sam said to the ghost. "Where were you buried?"

"Why do you ask?" Oliver inquired warily.

"'Cause, if you want us to send you on your way, Uncle Ollie, we've gotta burn your bones," Dean said grumpily. "And, as far as I'm concerned, you could bring your brother, and we could have a great big bonfire."

"NO! Don't burn my bones! You can't!" Oliver exclaimed, panicked.

"We have to, Oliver," Sam said in a calm, reasonable tone. "I know, it sounds weird, but don't worry. You won't feel anything. That's not you, not any more. But that's how it's done. If you want to move on from this house, we have to destroy your last tether to this world."

"But you can't burn my bones," Oliver said again.

"Why the hell not?!" Dean yelled. He'd had it with this guy. Talk about being an ungrateful bastard. He'd been bugging them this whole time about wanting to move on. Now they were telling him they were gonna help him do it, and he was telling them to forget it.

"I don't know," Oliver said vaguely. "I only know that you shouldn't."

"You know what? I'm really sick of all of you guys, right now," Gail fumed. "As far as I'm concerned, you can just move in here, and start paying Quinn rent. Maybe share a Netflix subscription. Watch Ghostbusters, and Poltergeist. I don't care. I don't owe you anything. I don't even know you." She got up and stalked out of the room.

Cas threw Oliver a glare, and then he followed Gail outside. "I mean it, Cas, I'm fed up," she said to him.

"I know, my love," he responded.

"What the hell do these people want from me?" she continued to rant. "I didn't ask to be born into this screwed-up family! The Manson Family would be better role models!"

"It hurts me that these people are biological relations to you," Cas said quietly. "But, I am your family, and Frank and Jody, and Sam and Dean, and all of them, Gail. Not him. Not him."

He opened up his arms, and she walked into them, nodding her head. Cas was right. She let him hold her for a moment until she stopped shaking, and then she pulled out of the embrace. "I guess we'd better get back in there," she sighed. "I guess I should make nice with Quinn, so Sam doesn't wind up in the doghouse." She touched Cas's face. "You know, at some point, we're going to have to talk about what you did in there."

"I know," he said, nodding thoughtfully. "I definitely have some undiscovered additional powers now, that must be commensurate with the Office. I won't have all of Father's powers, of course. None of his successors have done. But that's only right. There is only one Supreme Being, after all. I think Bobby said it best when he said: 'I'm not God; I just have his job.' Still, it will be nice to slowly discover the additional things that I am capable of doing."

Gail smiled. "Everything you say is true, but I was specifically alluding to the fact that you were sexy as hell in there."

Cas smiled faintly, taking her hand. "Do you think so?"

"Of course I do," she said, giving his hand a squeeze. "In fact, after you liberate a bunch of souls from the Garden, I think you're going to have to liberate me from my clothes, if that's not too cheesy of a thing to say."

Cas gazed lovingly at his wife. She was amazing. After the horrible ordeal she had just been through at her own father's hands, she was still able to joke, and tease. "We can definitely talk about that," he said in a light tone. He drew her to him for a kiss.

"Oh, look, they're kissing. Alert the presses," Dean said sarcastically. He and Sam were coming out of the house, closing the front door behind them.

"Oliver's gone, and Quinn kicked us out," Sam told them. "She said she wanted to be alone for a while."

"I'm sorry, Sam," Gail said, frowning. "I hope she's not too upset with me."

"You? Why would she be upset with you? You didn't do anything wrong," Sam said firmly. Dean looked at his brother. Sam was right, of course, but the hell of it was, it had seemed like Quinn HAD been blaming Gail, in a way. But, they probably just needed to let Quinn settle down for a bit. She might think that she was used to this kind of thing because she owned a few occult objects and called forth benign spirits of loved ones, but Quinn had no idea what kind of evil they were dealing with, here. And Dean ought to know. He'd been face to face and toe to toe with the worst evil there was. Or so he'd thought, anyway.

Gail made a face. "I still feel bad, though. If there's anything I can do to make it up to her..."

"It'll be OK," Sam said, putting his hand on her shoulder. "She just needs a little time. Dean and I are going back to the bunker. Are you guys coming with?"

"No, Sam. I have to get back, and I want Gail to come with me," Cas said soberly. "As long as the two of you are all right."

"We're fine, Cas. Don't worry about us," Dean told his friend.

"Yeah, we're OK," Sam agreed. Then his lips twitched. "We just have to hurry up and get home, so Dean can change his pants."

"Why would Dean need to - " Cas started to say, and then he got it. "Oh. That's very amusing, Sam."

Dean grumbled something to Cas about possibly smiting his younger brother, just once, as Sam pulled Gail in to him for a hug. "You were great, in there," he told her. "Don't worry; we've got your back with this guy. There's no way we're gonna let him do anything to you."

Gail smiled. "Thanks, Sam."

"I can't wait to tell Frank about this," Dean remarked. "He needs to know what a badass his little sister really is. And, Cas? What you did back there? Man, he's gonna be sorry he missed that."

"You make it sound as though it was entertainment," Cas chided him. "But if this man is a real threat, we will have to figure out what to do about him. Unfortunately, it would appear as if his claims of immortality are true. I gave him everything I had, as the saying goes. And yet, he lives."

"OK, well, give us a call once you finish your thing, and we'll talk," Dean said, clapping Cas on the shoulder. Then he looked at Gail. "Thanks for what you did in there, Mrs. Buzzkill. Don't worry. Sammy's right. We've got your back. Not that you need the backup, though. We should probably just put you alone in a room with that guy for about ten minutes. He'd be banging on the door, screaming for our help."

Gail moved to Dean and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Say hi to Frank for us," she said to him. "And if he makes one snake joke too many, just let me know, and I'll have Cas put him on the S-list."

The brothers laughed. She had made that joke before, but it was still funny. They all said their goodbyes, and then Cas and Gail winked themselves away.

Cas winked Gail to a secluded place in the Garden, away from all the souls that were still awaiting disposition there. She looked around. What a pretty place. They were in a shady glen by the stream, and Cas waved his hand now, and a bench appeared on the path near the water. He took Gail by the hand and led her by the hand over to the bench, sitting her down. They sat quietly for a moment, and Gail let the serenity of the place wash over her. It was a welcome respite, after the trauma of what they'd just experienced.

Cas smiled. "Do you remember our reunion here, after the incident in Las Vegas?"

Gail's mouth dropped open. "That was HERE? Yes, of course I remember it, Cas."

"I was so happy to see you. I thought that I had lost you," he said quietly. "I know that sometimes you think I'm overprotective, but it seems as if every time you and I are apart, someone is threatening you." He turned to her. "You are my whole life. Please understand that. If anything were to happen to you, I don't know what I would..." His voice thickened, and he cleared his throat. "I may be God now, but I still do not have the power of revival. Every day I pray to our Father to relent and return that power to me, and every day, the silence is deafening. Yet, Crowley still retains that power. The logic escapes me."

Gail understood how her husband felt. "Me too, sweetie." She sighed. "Maybe our Father wants to leave him with the opportunity to do the right thing, to keep him from going completely black."

Cas was surprised by her insight. "I had not thought of it that way before," he mused. "Perhaps you're right."

Gail was looking at him suspiciously now. He was speaking a little more formally now, which usually signified that he felt uncomfortable. "What is it, Cas?" she asked him. "What's the matter?"

"I couldn't kill him, Gail," he replied. "I'm God, yet I couldn't kill him. Why not? And, how can I protect you from Vincent, if he is indeed immortal?"

She sighed again. "I don't know, Cas. We're going to have to brainstorm about that, I guess. But in the meantime, I need you to do me a favour."

"What's that?" he asked her.

"Can you give me a kiss?" she said, smiling.

Cas thawed a little. He slid his arms around her and drew her to him, kissing her on the lips. "I love you, and I only want you to be all right," he told her. "Will you please stay with me for a while?"

"Yes, of course I will, Cas," Gail replied, nestling herself into his arms.

They sat there like that for a few more minutes, enjoying the shade and the gentle sound of the stream tricking by, and then Cas said, "I need your help." He told her about the situation with Paul, and Gail shook her head slowly.

"In a way, I don't blame him for being mad," she remarked. "He did help us an awful lot, Cas. I felt terrible when Lucifer killed him that way. So THAT'S what you did, when you went back there that day? And, he's the first person you looked for? That's sweet, Cas."

He gave her a tight smile. "I don't believe that Paul would agree with you; not at the moment, anyway. But, how could I not seek to reward him? He saved your life on more than one occasion, and he helped us along the way to defeating Lucifer numerous times, at great risk to himself." Then Cas frowned. "Yet, he still went back to Purgatory, instead of coming here. So, I asked him if there was something he hadn't told me about, and he got angry. He said he would have been in Heaven already, if he was white."

Gail rolled her eyes. "Not THAT again," she said, making a face. "I thought we'd gotten past the race thing."

"I'd hoped so, too," Cas agreed. "But I'm sure it doesn't help that every time Paul looks at me, he sees his father's killer."

Gail frowned. But then she said, "I have an idea."

Cas and Gail winked over to another part of the Garden. A man was sitting on another bench with his back to them, feeding the birds with a bag of bread crumbs that was sitting in his lap.

"Bonjour, Henri," Cas said softly, so as not to startle him.

But Henri merely smiled. He put the bag down on the bench beside him and rose to his feet, walking around the bench to where the couple stood.

"Bonjour, mes amies," Henri said in response. "Or, should I say, Mon Dieu?" His smile widened as he looked at Cas. "I can get down on my knees, if you want. My arthritis is gone now, along with all of my other pain."

"I trust that you're joking," Cas replied. "No one needs to get down on their knees. I'm the same man you met in Paris."

Henri regarded him for a moment, and then he looked at Gail. "I'm happy to see you here, little lady. How are you?"

"I'm fine, Henri. You look good," Gail told him. "Are you happy? Well, you know, considering?"

"I truly am, Gail," he answered. "I'm not in any pain, the weather is always pleasant here, and I have a purpose. Every day, I come out here, and I feed these birds. Then, I sit and enjoy the peace and quiet for a spell. Then, I walk down that path to the library and get a book, and then I bring it back here and read for a while. My days are quiet and uneventful, but when you consider the alternative, I'm very grateful."

But Gail was looking at their friend with her head tilted now. While she was pleased that he looked like the Henri they remembered from before his illness, Gail sensed that he wasn't being entirely truthful with them.

"Are you bored, Henri?" she asked him softly. "It's OK to say so, you know. I mean, I like reading and serenity as much as the next person, but..."

Henri smiled gently. "OK, you got me, little lady," he replied. "I confess, I am a bit lonely. The birds aren't exactly great at conversation. But I don't want to seem ungrateful, Cas. I'm very happy to be here in the Kingdom of Heaven."

Cas smiled. "This isn't Heaven, Henri. This is the Garden. It's what you might call a holding area for Heaven. Souls wait here to be sorted, for lack of a better term. We're here for two reasons: Firstly, to escort you to Heaven, and get you set up. You can pick your residence and your job there, if you want one. Or, you can stay retired. It's up to you. In addition, we can introduce you to some Angel friends of ours, who can help you to find your grandparents, if you like."

Henri was astonished. "You would do all that for me?"

"Of course, Henri. You're our friend, and you deserve to be treated like a very important person," Cas told him. "You did a lot of good when you were on Earth."

"I didn't do anything, Cas," Henri said modestly. "I was gettin' nowhere until you both came along. Sam and Dean, too. How are those fellows?"

"They're terrific, Henri," Gail told him.

"And don't sell yourself short, Henri," Cas added. "If it hadn't been for you, we wouldn't have known how bad the situation with Les Rebelles Blancs was, and we wouldn't have been able to infiltrate them as easily. You helped to save a lot of lives, Henri."

Henri smiled at the couple. He felt that they were being generous in their praise, but he would take it. It was just so good to see them again. But then, it occurred to him: Cas had said that they were here for two reasons. He asked them about that now.

Gail smiled sweetly. "Remember Paul?" she said.

"What's this I hear about you giving the Lord your God a hard time?" Henri asked Paul. The latter had been sitting on a log by the stream, fuming. He jumped up now, in surprise.

"Pops! What are you doing here?" Paul exclaimed.

"Waitin', same as you," Henri replied calmly. "And a damn sight more patiently, by the sounds of things."

Cas and Gail had both thought that, since Paul had looked up to Henri when they had all been in Paris together, if they brought Henri here to tell the younger man that he too had been waiting to gain admittance to Heaven, that Paul wouldn't mind so much. But their theory backfired.

"There you go," Paul grumbled. "That just illustrates my point. Black folks to the back of the bus, black folks at the end of the line."

Gail was exasperated. "You know what? You're behaving like an ass," she told him.

"What did you just say to me?" Paul said sharply.

"You heard me," she shot back. "Oh, and hi, by the way. I was about to tell you how happy I was to see you, but now, I don't think I will. Do you know how many millions of people are waiting here? Henri's been waiting for a couple of years, minimum, and you just got here. You're the first person Cas came to get. The very first one. So you're not only at the front of the bus, you're practically driving the damn thing! We just brought Henri here because the two of you were friends. But you're behaving like an ass now, and if you were white, I'd be telling you the same thing. Ask Dean how I talk to HIM, sometimes."

Henri's lips were twitching. Little Angel Gail, getting in Paul's face, shaking her finger at him like a schoolmarm. "OK, OK," Paul said, holding his hands up in surrender. "You don't have to yell at me." Then he smiled. "And for the record, it's good to see you too, Boo. And how are those flannel-shirted fellas? And your brother, and his wife?"

"Everybody's good, Paul," Cas replied with a tight smile.

"So you've been here this whole time, too?" Henri asked Paul. "Since we were together in Paris?"

"It's a long story, Pops," the younger Angel replied, but Cas interjected, "He was in Purgatory, Henri. But what I'd still like to know is: Why?"

"Purgatory?!" Henri exclaimed. "You were in Purgatory?"

"Yeah, and it's bull-" Paul started to say, and Henri's expression darkened instantly. "-Spit," Paul finished, and now, it was Gail who was fighting not to smile. Henri had always gotten mad at Paul for using off-colour language around her. It was old-school, and it was very sweet. But she was as puzzled as the others were about Paul. Except for having a bit of a chip on his shoulder about racial prejudice, Paul was all right, in her opinion. He had reformed himself about as much as an individual could.

"Why were you in Hell, Paul?" Gail blurted out.

Everyone's heads swivelled to look at her. "What?" Paul asked.

"Why were you in Hell in the first place?" she asked him again. "You're not a bad guy, Paul. I'm sure of it. So, why were you in Hell to begin with?"

Suddenly, Cas realized that he had no idea, either. "Yes; why WERE you a Demon in the first place, Paul? That's an excellent question," he said to Gail.

Paul sighed. "It's a bit of a story. But if you really want to hear it, I'll tell you."

Cas waved his hand, and a picnic table appeared in the shade of a tree. "I think we'd all like to hear it, Paul," he said, gesturing to the table. "Let's have a seat."

Once they were all seated, Paul sighed again. "I was an angry young man," he began. "Mad, about everything. I was the original rebel without a clue. 'What are you rebelling against?' 'Whaddaya got?' My father the Archangel raised me to believe that we were better than everyone else, but every time I looked around, it seemed like we were being treated like second-class citizens. I asked my dad about it, and that was the first time I learned that there was such a thing as racism. So, even though he had been telling me all along that we were better than everybody else, now he was also telling me that we would be treated worse, all because of a little, insignificant detail like the colour of our skin. Needless to say, it was hard for a young child such as myself to grasp the dichotomy of the situation." Cas looked at Paul in surprise, and Paul raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, that's right, Castiel. I can talk Harvard, as well as Harlem." He looked at Henri. "You'll understand what I'm talking about. I was black, but I'd been raised white. I didn't know who I was. So, I started acting out. Rebelling. My old man had some pretty radical politics, didn't he, Castiel? Once I got mature enough to start forming my own opinions about things, I thought that maybe it was his hardline stance on the Apocalypse that was turning many Angels against him. So, I told him that once, and he kicked my ass six ways from Sunday. So then, I began to hate him. But I hated Heaven, too. Everywhere I looked, all I saw was white. White walls, white clothes, and white faces, all looking at me with disapproval. That's when I started to feel the resentment kick in. I resented my father for choosing this skin colour in the first place, and I resented everyone who seemed to be looking down on us because of it."

"Choosing his skin colour?" Henri said, puzzled.

Cas looked at the older man. "When we became Angels back in ancient times, we had the option of assuming any vessel we chose," he explained. "Many picked vessels that they thought would be both useful and aesthetically pleasing. Sort of like you would try on different outfits, at a clothing store. Most of us did not have any sort of emotional attachments to any type of human structure, because we were celestial beings. I myself didn't even bother getting one until it became necessary for me to be seen by humans." He looked at Paul. "I can only assume that your father chose a Nubian vessel because it was different from most of the others'. He was always a proud man, and an individualist."

Paul gave a short laugh. "That he was, Castiel. That he was."

"So, let me get this right: Back then, being black was something to be proud of?" Henri said disbelievingly.

"So it would seem," Cas replied.

"Well, well," Henri said, bemused. "I guess James Brown was born in the wrong era."

"Anyway," Paul continued, smiling briefly at Henri's remark, "this went on for a while. Then, one day, something happened that gave me just the excuse I needed to burn it all down. Metaphorically speaking, of course."

"And what was that, Son?" Henri inquired.

Paul frowned. "Castiel killed my father."

Henri inhaled sharply. They'd mentioned that fact in Paris, but he supposed they hadn't had the time nor the inclination to tell him any details about it at the time. It hadn't really been any of his business, anyway. But he'd thought so highly of Cas, and Cas and Paul had seemed like they'd been able to put what had happened behind them. Then there'd been that whole thing with Les Rebelles Blancs, and they had never had the chance to talk about it any further.

Gail saw Cas swallow, hard, out of the corner of her eye. She put her hand on his leg under the table and gave him a reassuring squeeze.

"Suddenly, I didn't know how to feel about anything," Paul went on. "Admittedly, I wasn't exactly feeling warm and fuzzy about my old man at the time, but he was still my father. And I didn't know you at all back then, Cas. To me, you were the epitome of 'The Man'. Walking around Heaven with your head held high. Being chosen by our Father to lead the incursion into Hell to rescue Dean Winchester. Castiel, God's favourite Son. My father was an Archangel, one of a small group of the Elite of all Angels. Yet it was Castiel who God smiled upon, time and time again. But then, the Father did His disappearing act, Castiel had seemingly decided to make the Earth his new home, and my dad decided to take what he thought was rightfully his. So the battle lines were drawn, and things see-sawed back and forth for a while. But ultimately, Castiel was the last man standing. After he obliterated my father, that was."

Cas frowned deeply. "I regret that action, Paul. I regret it every day. Please know that if I could take it back, I would."

Paul nodded slowly. "That's all right, Castiel. I've come to terms with it. I just mentioned it to make my point. I was all alone and at loose ends when my dad was killed. I hated him, but I also hated Heaven, and I hated you for being you, and for taking away my last chance to reconcile my differences with my father."

Gail looked at Paul balefully. Cas was working his jaw now, looking downcast. Was it possible to make God cry? Of course it was, seeing as God was her tender-hearted husband.

"You said you were making a point," Gail said to Paul, sharply.

"Yeah - " he started to say, and she raised her voice, interrupting him: "Well, then, I suggest you make it! Either that, or you can go back to Purgatory. Or, if you prefer, you can go back to Hell, you ungrateful little - "

"All right, Gail," Cas said wearily.

"Yes, mind your language," Henri said softly, with a faint smile. "There's a lady present."

His quip had the desired effect. They all smiled, even Paul. "Are you sure there isn't a little Demon inside of you, somewhere?" Paul asked her. Then he looked at Cas. "I apologize, Lord," he said curtly. Gail's blood was still boiling, but she let it go. That was about as much as she could expect, she supposed.

"Anyway, that was when I decided I didn't want to be in Heaven anymore," Paul went on. "So I went to the Portal, and I went down to Earth. I figured nobody in Heaven would miss me, and apparently, no one did. I was an angry young man, looking for a fight. And I found one. I hooked up with a group called the Zulu Warriors."

"You did not," Henri said, shocked.

Now Paul was the one to look down at the table. "What's that?" Cas wanted to know.

Henri was glaring at Paul. "It's Les Rebelles Noirs, Cas," the older man said, tight-lipped.

"Come on, Pops. It's not like that," Paul mumbled.

"It's exactly like that," Henri said angrily, "and you know it. And, my name is Henri." He turned to Cas and Gail. "The Zulu Warriors are a militant Black Power organization. Much like the racists we were dealing with in Paris, they believe that might is right. Their slogan is 'Take Back The Power', and their specialty is fire-setting and bombing. Isn't that right, Paul?"

"OK, OK," Paul said, holding his hands up in surrender. "Yes, that's right. But I was different, back then. I was young, and angry, and I didn't know what I was doing."

"When my grandfather was young, he joined the Army, to do the right thing," Henri said in a clipped tone. "When my father was young, he worked two, sometimes three jobs, to provide for his family. And, when I was young, I was the first person in my family's history to graduate from college. You make your choices, boy."

"But I never killed anybody!" Paul exclaimed, agitated. "I swear! I just hung around with them, and talked the talk. How those cracker bastards were always keeping us down. How my reparations had better at least include fourty acres, a mule, and a staff of white servants. Maybe a date with a model from Ebony magazine, too. You know, the usual b.s. Right, Henri?"

Surprisingly, Henri smiled. He actually did know exactly what young Paul was talking about. Henri had himself indulged in a spot of rhetoric or two in his day, although his request for reparations might instead have included a night with Diana Ross, and a case or two of fine French wine. "So, what you're saying is that you were all show and no go?" Henri said to Paul.

"Well, almost," the younger Angel said in a subdued tone. "They told me what they were planning to do, and I did nothing. I just sat there, drinkin' and bullshitting - sorry, Boo - about how we were being oppressed by Whitey. And eventually, the group trusted me enough to tell me what they were planning. First, they were gonna rob a few banks, and then, when they had enough capital, they were going to plant bombs in some places around town they figured needed a wake-up call. Bastions of the Establishment. Once again, you'll know what I'm talking about, Pop- Henri," he amended hastily.

Henri nodded, suppressing a smile. He actually didn't really mind Paul calling him 'Pops', in a strange way. He'd never been fortunate enough to have any kids of his own. Too wrapped up in his career and then too preoccupied with that racist group they'd ended up defeating, he supposed. But Henri felt the same way as Gail did about Paul. He wasn't a bad guy; he'd just made some questionable choices, and he had paid a hefty price for them. Paul did need to watch his attitude a bit, and he definitely needed reminding about respect from time to time. Henri could help him with that. Now, he understood why Cas and Gail had actually brought him here to Paul, and Henri blessed them for it.

"Yes, I do know what you're talking about," the older Angel said now. "Banks, government offices, country clubs. The kinds of places where, if you ever saw a person of colour, they were serving the patrons, or waxing the floors. I understand the struggle, Paul. I've been part of the struggle. But I went about my business the right way. Organizations like the Zulu Warriors and Les Rebelles Blancs are never the right way, Paul. Never. The only colour those kinds of people are interested in is red, as in how much blood can be spilled."

"I know that now," Paul said quietly. "I promise that I do, Castiel. But at the time, I just got all caught up in the madness. I didn't intend to actually commit any crimes. I just went down into the basement one day when nobody else was around, and I got to playing with some of the bomb stuff, and I blew myself up. There. I said it. There's your headline, when you're looking me up in the book of biggest losers and screw-ups of all time. I thought I was Malcolm X, Bobby Seale, and Huey Newton, all rolled into one. But what I was, was a kid who was so far out of his league it wasn't even funny. So that's how I died. I have no idea what the group did after that. I blew up their headquarters and the bombs they'd already made, but they could have started up all over again. I can only guess that I went to Hell because I did nothing to stop them."

Cas was thoughtful. If what Paul was saying was the complete truth, and Cas had a hunch that it was, being sent to Hell seemed a bit harsh. Perhaps an innocent bystander had been killed in the blast that Paul had triggered, or maybe Father had just been trying to make an example of Paul. After all, Paul was the son of an Archangel. Their Father had suffered many a disappointment at the hands of his progeny over the years; maybe Paul had just caught God on a particularly bad day, or something. But Castiel felt for Paul now. He'd paid a very expensive price for his little rebellion.

Cas took Gail's hand. "Please excuse us for a moment," he said to the men, and then he winked her to another spot in the Garden.

"What do you think?" Cas asked his wife.

"I believe him, Cas," she said. "I think he just messed up. But I also think he deserves another chance. Once he sees that no one is going to be prejudiced against him in Heaven, I think he could be a real asset to us, Cas. He's a diamond in the rough. I just have a feeling about him. If we get Henri to take him under his wing, so to speak - " they both smiled - "and we introduce him to some of our friends, I think he'll be OK."

Cas nodded. "I concur."

Meanwhile, Henri was talking quietly to Paul. "Son, please listen to me. I don't know much about how these things work, but it seems like they're bending over backwards to help you. I've had a lot of experience with racism, and I don't see any evidence of it here. You can't go around looking for white sheets everywhere, Paul. When you find some, by all means, shut 'em down. But we both know there's a difference between actual racism and perceived racism. Take that chip off your shoulder, Son. It'll feel so good when you finally do."

As Paul was thinking about that, Cas and Gail returned. "I have to do something," Cas told them. "I'll be right back." He winked out, and Gail sat down at the picnic table again.

"I'm curious about something," she said to Paul. "If you could choose, would you rather be white?"

Interestingly enough, it was Henri who looked at her sharply, but Paul merely nodded, looking thoughtful. "You know what, Gail?" he asked her rhetorically. "I used to ask myself that same question, sometimes. But I'm curious about why you're asking it now."

She was staring directly at him. "Because Cas has your original vessel in Heaven. Yet, the vessel you're in now is also black. So that must have involved some kind of conscious decision on your part to stay black, don't you think? When I was attacked by a wild animal and my vessel was undergoing excruciating pain, Cas suggested that I should get a new one. But I didn't want to, because I liked myself the way I was. Even though I wasn't tall, gorgeous, and model-thin. We can always find reasons not to like ourselves, Paul. I was unhappy in my own skin for years, and fairly recently, it took me a year or so of wallowing in Hell before I realized that I had to make my own Heaven. Is any of this making any sense to you?"

Both men were looking at her now, shaking their heads in wonderment. Then Paul began to smile. "Who knew my Boo was so deep?" he said softly.

She answered his smile. "When Cas gets back, we'll all go to Heaven and get you guys set up. You can pick whatever kind of residence you want, and whatever kind of job you want, if you want jobs at all. I don't know about you guys, but if I didn't already have a job, I'd still choose one. Everybody needs to have a purpose."

"I don't know what I could possibly do to contribute," Paul mused. "As the son of an Archangel, I led an existence of privilege. I didn't have to do anything, so I didn't do anything." He frowned. "Actually, that might have been part of my problem."

"Well, I think I have an idea about that," Gail said. "We'll talk some more."

"As far as residences go, you can bunk with me, if you want," Henri said to Paul. "I've been a little lonesome, with only the birds for company. At least until we get our bearings, anyway. Actually, seeing as you were there before, you can show me around."

"I'd like that, Henri," Paul said softly. Frankly, he'd be glad of the company, too. Cas and Gail could say whatever they wanted to about Paul being welcomed back into the fold, but it was going to take him a while to find his place in the scheme of things. He looked at Henri. How lucky he had been to meet this man. Henri should have been Paul's father. Imagine how differently things could have turned out. But Henri was right: Paul was being offered a true second chance here, and he intended to grab it with both hands.

Cas reappeared. "Is everything settled, then?" he asked them.

"Yes, it is, Cas," Henri answered for both men. "We're ready. Lead on."

"Take my hands," Cas told them. He looked at Gail. "We're going to Bobby's office." She nodded her acknowledgement. She could get there on her own; Henri and Paul were the ones who needed the divine escort.

They all disappeared, and a moment later, they were in Bobby's office. Bobby stood up from his chair and moved around the desk, extending his hand to Henri. "How do you do, Henry? It's good to meet you. Cas and Gail speak highly of you. Welcome to Heaven."

Henri was a little discombobulated. He was unused to the process of teleportation, and his head was still a little dizzy from that. He'd just been by the stream in the Garden, and now he was standing in an office, shaking hands with an older white man, whose Southern accent put him on the defensive right away. But then, he checked himself. Hadn't he just been lecturing Paul about this same sort of thing?

"Bobby is a very good friend of Sam and Dean's," Cas told Henri. "He has advised that he'll be glad to help you get set up. As soon as we restore Paul to full Angelic status, I'm afraid I must leave you. I have quite a lot of things to attend to."

"I'm sure you do, Cas," Henri responded. "It's good to meet you, Bobby."

Now Bobby was looking at Paul, who was gazing around the room, open-mouthed. He couldn't believe it. Look at all the colour here.

"Paul," Bobby said, with a touch of coolness in his tone. He realized that the young man wasn't the enemy any more, but it was still a little weird to see him here like this.

"Have you got the vial, Bobby?" Cas asked their friend.

"Right here," Bobby said, taking it out of his shirt pocket.

Cas looked at Paul. "I'm giving you a choice: You can either take the Grace that Bobby has in that vial into your original vessel, or you can choose another. In other words, I'm giving you the opportunity to be white, if you want."

Cas and Bobby had talked about that, when Cas had popped up here a few minutes ago. Castiel had reached the same conclusion about Paul that Gail had, but he thought that he should make the offer anyway, just to see what Paul was going to say.

Henri regarded Paul curiously. Interesting. This would be a good test for the young man.

Paul looked at Gail and smiled warmly. "Nahhhh, I think I'll stay myself. I'm ready to make my own Heaven. Besides, as I'm looking around now, I see so much colour that I think I'll fit in nicely."

"Very good, then," Cas said. "I'll be right back." He popped out, then came back a moment later, carrying Paul's old vessel. He laid the body down on the floor, propping it up. "May I have the vial, please?"

Gail moved closer to Henri, touching his arm. "You're about to get an introduction into the world of the really strange," she said to the older Angel. "Brace yourself."

Bobby handed the vial down to Cas, who looked up at Paul, in the temporary vessel the latter was using. "This Grace came from a long-serving Angel named Ignatius," Cas told Paul. "He knew your father. A while back, Ignatius surrendered it to us because he wanted to live out the remainder of his days on Earth as a human. Please treat his Grace with the dignity it deserves. I need you to come down here with me. Open your mouth and exhale your essence into your vessel here, and I will introduce Ignatius's Grace into it at the same time. Then you will be a full-fledged Angel once more."

Paul did as Cas requested, and Henri watched, astonished, as Paul's current vessel appeared to deflate, as if they were letting the air out of a balloon. Then, the vessel that Cas was propping up began to draw breath, opening his eyes. It was funny, though. When Henri had first seen Paul in the Garden, he had known instantly who Paul was, even though he'd been in a different body. He said this to Gail now.

"Welcome to the wacky and wonderful world of otherworldly beings," she said good-naturedly. "We all know each other, instinctively. Wait till you teleport by yourself for the first time. It's a good thing we don't eat, 'cause I almost threw up."

Henri laughed. What a cutie-pie she was. He was so glad that Cas was God now, and that Gail was by his side. He had the feeling that Heaven was going to be a terrific place.

Paul was standing up now, with Cas's assistance. He'd been through a similar operation before in Paris, but it was still a disorienting process. But as he stood up and stretched, taking air into his lungs, Paul realized something: he felt fantastic. It was as if he had been walking in the wilderness with nothing to eat or drink for days, sweating and dirty. He felt healthy, and he felt clean. He put his hand out to Cas for a shake.

"Thank you, my Lord," Paul said, bursting into a smile. "Thanks for this. You won't regret it, I promise."

Cas took his hand. "It's Cas. I encourage all my friends to call me Cas."

They shook, and for a moment, Paul was overwhelmed. After all the crap he had pulled in the past, to be standing here in Heaven, a full Angel again? It was unbelievable.

Gail moved forward now, and she extended her own hand to Paul. "Welcome back, Paul," she said to the young Angel.

He looked down at her hand. "Forget that, Boo," he said in a thick voice. He opened his arms, and they shared a hug.

Paul pulled out of the embrace, smiling down at her. "I'll never forget what you said, though," he told her. "You got through to me, Gail." He looked at Bobby. "I can see you still have some reservations about me. But I'm OK now, Bobby, I swear. You'll see. Thank you for being open enough to give me a chance." He walked forward to Bobby, extending his hand for a shake, and Bobby shook with him. If Cas was willing to give Paul this second chance, Bobby supposed he could, too.

Now Paul grinned. "I can't get over all the colour I see here," he remarked. "How in the heck did you accomplish this?"

Cas and Gail had moved close to each other now, and they looked at one another, smiling. Cas took her hand in his, caressing the back of her hand with his thumb.

Paul's mouth fell open. Now that he was back to full Angel status, he was starting to remember a few things, and he was beginning to clue in now, based on the way the two of them were looking at each other. "Why, you rascal, you," he said softly, moving forward to where the couple was standing. "Way to go, Cas," Paul said, raising his hand.

Cas was puzzled for a moment, and then he realized: Paul was looking to give him a high-five. He put his free hand up, and Paul slapped it. "I always high-five with my friends," Paul said, with a genuine smile.

Gail let go of Cas's hand and moved over to Henri. "We'll leave you guys in Bobby's hands, then," she said to him. Henri opened up his arms and they shared a hug. "Merci," Henri said to the couple. "Thanks for everything."

"We'll see you soon," Gail said. She moved back over to Cas, and the two of them joined hands again. "We'll talk some more, after you both get settled." They all smiled at each other, Cas waved his hand and the temporary vessel Paul had been using disappeared, and then Cas and Gail did, too.


	5. In The Garden

Chapter 5 - In The Garden

Cas winked Gail to the Portal that led into the Garden. He was the only entity who was able to access that door, so the two of them were alone. "I'd like to thank you for your help with Paul," he said to her.

"I'm glad it worked out that way with him and Henri," she responded. "That was a good thing that you did back there, Cas. You should be very proud."

He smiled. "That was a good thing that WE did," he gently corrected her. "So, as Frank might say: call me butter, because I'm on a roll. I'd like to continue, and I'd like you to come with me. Will you, please?"

Gail laughed merrily. That had been a good one on Cas's part. She felt giddy with goodwill now. "Of course I will, Cas," she told him eagerly. "Who are we going to see next?"

He told her what he was thinking now, and tears sprang to her eyes. "Oh, Cas! That'll be wonderful!" she exclaimed. "Thank you for including me in this. I can't wait to see their faces!"

"Well, I think it's high time," he said firmly. "I've already found them. We'll go there in exactly one minute." Then he smiled again. "But I was hoping to be able to be alone with you for a moment, first." He put his arms around her waist.

Gail laughed. "Well, since you put it that way..."

The Angels kissed for a minute or so, and then Gail broke the embrace. "You know I love you more than anything, but I can't wait any more," she told her husband.

"This is the part of the job I really enjoy," Cas said happily. He took her hand, and opened the door.

A moment later, the couple approached them. A woman and a young boy, playing catch with a baseball in a clearing.

"Good catch!" Karen exclaimed. "I can't wait till your Dad sees what a great baseball player you are."

"Well, you won't have to wait for that any longer," Cas said.

Karen looked at Cas and Gail, and her mouth fell open. "I know you," she said. "We met before, years ago, when George was just a baby."

"That's right," Cas confirmed. "I'm Cas, and this is my wife, Gail."

George ran over to where the adults were standing. "I'm George," he said brightly. "I used to pray to you every night."

Cas ruffled the boy's hair. "I'm sorry it took me so long to get here, but I've been a little busy," he said in a mild tone. He saw no reason to tell Ethan's son that he wasn't the one the boy would have been praying to at the time.

"That's OK," the boy replied. "Mom said we're Angels now. She told me to be really patient, and if I was good, we'd get to be with Dad again." He looked up at Gail. "Are you Mrs. God?"

Gail laughed through the tears of happiness that were blurring her vision. "Yes, I am," she said. She looked at Karen. "Your husband's a fine man, and a good friend of ours. I can't wait to see his face when he sees you." Then she looked at Cas. "Why don't you take them to Ethan's apartment, and I'll go get him at the Academy?" Gail suggested. "That way, they can have a private reunion."

"That's a good idea," Cas said, nodding. "I'll see you there in a minute."

Gail blew him a kiss, and then winked out.

Karen was smiling. "It's hard to imagine, God having a wife," she said to Cas with some amusement. "How is Ethan?"

"He's been missing the two of you terribly, but otherwise, he's fine," Cas replied. "He's in charge of the Law Enforcement Division in Heaven, and he also helps to train cadets at the Academy. You should be very proud of him."

"Thank you, God," Karen said. She took George's hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "We're going to see your Daddy now," she told him.

George jumped up and down. "Yayyy!" he exclaimed loudly, and Karen looked at Cas apologetically. "I'm sorry, My Lord," she said. "He's just excited."

Cas smiled gently. "First of all, my name is Cas. And secondly, that's quite all right. I know a young man who used to do the very same thing when he was excited."

George was tapping Cas's leg with his finger now, and Cas looked down. "Yes, George?" he asked calmly.

Ethan's son had the baseball in his other hand, and he extended it to Cas now. "Would you like to have my baseball?" the child said to Cas. "My Mom said if somebody gives you a present, you should give them one, back," he told Cas. "This is all I have."

A lump formed in Cas's throat. "No, you keep it, George," he said. "Your dad is going to want to play catch with you, I'm sure. You don't have to give me anything. The happiness I'll feel seeing your father's face when he sees the two of you will be gift enough." He looked at Karen again. "If you'll take George's hand again, we'll go, now," he said to her. "You may feel a little strange for a moment, but you'll get used to it, I promise. Now hold onto your mom, George." The mother and son clasped hands, and Cas took Karen by the arm and winked them out of the Garden.

"Can't you just tell me what this is about?" Ethan was asking Gail. "I thought enrollment was going to drop off once Cas told us that classes were voluntary now, but everybody's reporting full classes, with waiting lists. I'm just trying to keep up. As it is, I was going to ask Cas if we could get a few more instructors."

"We'll talk about that later, but you have to come with me, right now," she urged.

"At least tell me what it's regarding, Gail. Can't it wait till the end of class?" he inquired.

"Do I have to pull rank on you?" she said impatiently, grabbing him by the arm and tugging. "I don't care if they have to train themselves! It's an emergency!"

"OK, Gail, OK," Ethan said, letting her lead him down the corridor. "I just sent a message on Angel Radio to the cadets, telling them to keep practicing. Now, what's wrong?"

"Nothing, for a change. For a change, everything is just right," she assured him. "Hang on, Ethan. We're going Express." She seized him by the hand, and popped him over to his apartment.

"Ethan!" Karen exclaimed, as soon as her husband opened the door. She ran to him. He stood there, shocked. Karen launched herself into his arms, and Ethan wrapped her up in a fierce embrace.

"I've missed you so much, Baby Bear," Karen said into his chest. Both Angels were crying. Gail looked at Cas, and the two of them smiled at each other. Tears were filling Gail's eyes again, but her lips were twitching now, too. Baby Bear? Once the dust settled, she was going to have to tease him about that. Maybe tell Ethan he would have to bribe her not to bring up that particular pet name at the next board meeting.

George ran forward to where his parents were, and he tugged on Ethan's pant leg. "Daddy?" he said tentatively.

Ethan looked down at his son. "The last time I saw you, you were just a baby," he said to George in a quiet voice.

"It's nice to meet you," George said formally.

Everyone lost it, then. Ethan was crying even harder now, and he got down on one knee, opening his arms. George put his arms around his father's neck, and Ethan lifted George up with one arm, putting his other arm around Karen's waist. "I don't know how to - " Ethan started to say, and then his voice broke. Tears of happiness were coursing down his cheeks. He cleared his throat. "I don't know how to thank you, Cas. I owe you everything."

"You owe me nothing," Cas said around the lump in his throat. "You owe me an eternity of happiness with your family. That's what you owe me." He moved over to where Gail was standing. She was a sobbing mess now. George kissed his father on the cheek, and Gail hitched in a breath. Cas waved his hand, and suddenly, she was holding a wad of tissues. He took a couple for himself, and the two of them wiped their eyes. Then Cas said, "We'll leave you alone now. Welcome to Heaven, Karen and George. We'll see all of you very soon, I'm sure. Please take the rest of the week off, Ethan. You have too many jobs, anyway," Cas added, smiling.

"Cas is right," Gail agreed, sniffling back her tears. "In fact, we'll have to talk. I was thinking about doing a realignment on the board. Besides, you might not want to show up there any more after I tell the other Musketeers about your true identity, 'Baby Bear'." She smiled to show him that she was only joking.

"Enjoy your reunion," Cas said, and then he and Gail winked themselves away.

A short while later, Ethan and Karen were sitting close together on the couch in their apartment and George was across the room at the table, working on a jigsaw puzzle.

Ethan had been overjoyed to be reunited with his wife and son, but now that the initial shock of their being here had worn off, the guilt was eating away at him.

"It's all my fault, Karen," Ethan said in a quiet voice. He was aware of George's presence, but he couldn't bear to have his son out of his eyesight right now.

"What do you mean?" Karen asked her husband.

He told her about the deal he'd thought that he was making with Lucifer at the time, the one that had resulted in Karen and George's murders at that Demon's hands. By the end of his tale, Ethan was sobbing. George looked over at them curiously, but he kept working on his puzzle. He knew that they were talking about adult stuff now, and he was happy enough just to be in the same room with both of his parents. It was funny, really. George had thought it was going to be kind of weird, meeting his Dad for the first time. He'd been just a little baby when his father had been shot, so in George's eyes, they had never met. But he'd loved his Dad with all his heart the instant he'd laid eyes on him, and it was great to see his Mom so happy now. She used to cry so many nights when they'd been alive on Earth, because she missed his Dad so bad. George didn't really remember dying, because it had happened so fast. But then, he and his Mom had woken up in a great big park where the weather was always nice. And whenever George got bored, as young children do, there had been toys to play with, or books they could read together, laying just beyond the next tree. George's Mom had been calm, and she had told him that if he was really, really good, he would see his Dad again. And she had been right. Mr. and Mrs. God had showed up at the park, and they had brought George and his Mom home.

Karen was holding Ethan now, comforting him. She could understand why he felt so badly, of course. But, like her son, she barely remembered her death. Of all of the ways that Lucifer could have chosen to murder them, the way it had been done was almost merciful. Just a split second of shock and pain, and then it had been over. Their bodies must have been pulverized, but somehow, they had woken up in that park intact. Karen knew then that God was Good, and that they were going to see Ethan again. So she'd been content enough to wait. At least she and George had been together while they were waiting.

But now, she and Ethan would have some work to do, to reconnect as a couple. And even though she'd been horrified to hear about what had happened with Lucifer, Karen now knew that it had all worked out in the end, and that Satan had ultimately been destroyed.

So, she smiled, wiping the tears from her husband's face. "I'm glad it all worked out the way it did," she told him. "I missed you too much to have to wait years and years to be with you again. Now, we're all together, as a family. Now, we can be happy again, Baby Bear." Her smile widened. "I hope you're not too mad at me for blurting that out in front of Cas and Gail."

Ethan grabbed some tissues and wiped his face with them. Then he kissed his wife. "Are you kidding?" he asked her. "You can call me anything you want. I'm just so glad to be with you again. The other Musketeers are just gonna have to deal with it." Karen's forehead wrinkled. That was the second reference to that term she'd heard. But she was patient. They would get there, she was sure. Meanwhile, Ethan was continuing to say, "I don't think Chuck will have too much to say about it. He's getting pretty sloppy about Laurel these days, himself. As for Kevin, I don't know. We're going to have to find someone for him. Maybe you can help with that."

"I can't wait to meet all of your friends," she said happily.

"I can't wait for them to meet you, too," Ethan said, giving her a squeeze. "They're all going to love you, almost as much as I do." He kissed her again, a longer, more lingering kiss this time. "Tomorrow, I'll make arrangements to get us a house," he told his wife. "That way, George can have his own room, and we can have a little more privacy, if you know what I mean."

Karen laughed softly. "As I recall, that's how we ended up with George in the first place," she teased him.

"Well, we certainly don't have to worry about that anymore," Ethan replied mischievously. Then he smiled. "The two of you are going to like it here, Karen."

"We already do, don't we, George?" Karen said brightly.

"Yeah!" the boy exclaimed. He grabbed the baseball from the table and hopped off his chair, running over to his parents.

"Want to play catch, Dad?" George asked Ethan. "You can teach me how to pitch."

And, once Ethan had used up another wad of tissues, he took his wife and son by their hands and winked them out of the apartment.

Cas and Gail had winked themselves back to Bobby's office after leaving Ethan's apartment. They told their friend about the happy reunion, and Bobby smiled. He was glad for Ethan.

"Did Henri and Paul get set up OK?" Gail asked Bobby.

He nodded. "I took them to see Chuck. Ever since he set up that census database, he reckons he's some kind of real estate agent. He asked them what kind of place they were looking for, and he set them up in a nice little two-bedroom house. I swear, he thinks he's making a commission, or something. I guess scriptwriting for a big Hollywood movie doesn't pay enough."

Cas just smiled. He knew that Chuck was donating all of his salary for working on the movie to charity, but that was Chuck's business. "I wonder if you could do me a favour, Bobby?" he said now. "Do you think that I could deputize you, for lack of a better term? There are millions of souls to be sorted, and I'm finding it's going to be hard to get to them all."

"Yeah, especially if you spend an hour with each person," Bobby said, good-naturedly enough. "Sure, Cas, if you want. But, do you want me to decide where they all go, too? If I have to run everything by you, it's gonna sort of defeat the purpose, isn't it?"

"You're absolutely right," Cas agreed, nodding. "So, I'm giving you total autonomy to make those decisions." He reached into his pocket. "Except for the names on this list." He handed the piece of paper to Bobby. "If you encounter any of these people, please notify me immediately."

Bobby looked down at the list, and then he looked up at Cas. His eyes narrowed a bit, but he said nothing. Cas was looking at him calmly. Well, he must have his reasons. Maybe Cas just wanted to be there to attend to these folks personally. In any event, that was just fine with Bobby. He was getting bored just sitting around here doing paperwork, anyway.

Cas put his hand on Bobby's forehead, conferring the ability to come and go from the Garden upon him. He asked Bobby to stay in touch and let him know how it was going, and to let him know if his help was needed. Then Bobby put Cas's list in his own pocket and winked out.

Gail looked at her husband, curious. "What was that list all about?"

"Just a few individuals that I wanted to deal with personally," he said vaguely. "Anyway, I think Bobby was very happy to get out of the office. It's very boring just sitting around doing paperwork all the time."

Gail smiled. "I agree. That was another good thing you did, Cas. You know, I'm so glad to see you this way."

"Doing good things for others feels wonderful," he told her.

"So, who's next?" she asked him eagerly.

He smiled, taking her hand. "You are."

A couple of hours later, Gail's head was on her husband's naked chest, and she was caressing him. But her brow was wrinkled now. "Why do I have the feeling that we're forgetting something?" she asked him.

Cas was smiling. "Is there another way that you would like to make love?" he said charmingly.

Gail shook her head slowly, rolling her eyes. But she was smiling, too. "You think you're pretty cute, don't you?"

"Well, seeing as you have told me numerous times that I am, I suppose that I have no choice but to concur," he said, tilting her face up so that he could kiss her on the lips.

"That's not what I was talking about, although I like the way you're thinking," she said playfully. Then she sighed. "What's the date, today?"

Cas thought for a moment. "You know, I have no idea," he told his wife. "Why?"

"I don't know," she mused. "I just...I don't know," she concluded lamely.

"Oh, Well, that clears that up, then," Cas said lightly. His lips were twitching again.

She started to kiss his face. "You know what? Frank's right; you've gotten even funnier, over the years," Gail told her husband. "Of course, I always thought you were funny."

"Actually, there was a time, just recently, when you accused me of having no discernible sense of humour," Cas remarked.

Gail made a face. "Do you really want to bring that up right now? That wasn't you, back then; it was Patricia's poison that was making you that way."

"I know, and I'm very sorry, my love," he said quietly. "I'm sorry for that whole thing. You were so loyal to me, for so long. She made me deny you, and she made you think I didn't love you anymore. I will never forgive her for that. Never."

"Patricia's one of the names on that list, isn't she?" Gail asked him. "And you sent Bobby to look for her, because you didn't want to be the one to find her."

"I could not be responsible for my actions if I did," Cas said grimly. "But when he does find her, I want to see her. Anyway, let's not talk about her right now. I believe there was a question on the table."

"Well, since I can't remember what it is that I seem to have forgotten, let's consider the other question that was raised," Gail said pertly. She slipped her hand under the sheet and began to stroke him lightly. Then she climbed on top of him. He understood what she was looking for right away. His hands went to her hips and he turned her around, guiding her to his mouth. She took him in hers, and they made love to each other until they were both crying out. After they had finished, they both lingered for a while. She laid herself down on top of him, kissing and licking him, and he was caressing her skin. Then, as she was just about to rise and suggest they shower, she could feel his tongue on her again. He'd taken her by surprise, and she made a noise. He liked it when she expressed herself so freely. It made him happy to be giving her so much pleasure. He caressed her more firmly, and the white glow came from his hands and enveloped the lower half of her body.

"Cas!" she exclaimed, and then, she couldn't talk at all.

A few minutes later, she was in his arms, trying to catch her breath. Cas kissed her on the forehead. "Did you enjoy that?" he asked her.

"Enjoy it?" she gasped. "I think I lost my mind there, for a minute." Then she looked at his face. "You realize that I don't need you to do that all the time, though, don't you? I know it's one of the perks, but I want to make sure you know that you're enough, Cas. Just you. You've always been enough."

"That's funny; that's what Father said to me, when I was in the desert," Cas said softly.

"Well, he was definitely right about that," Gail said, kissing her husband tenderly on the cheek. "So, maybe let's just leave the extra 'oomph' for special occasions, okay?" Then she smiled mischievously. "Maybe give me a warning next time, though, so I can have an oxygen mask ready on the nightstand."

Both of them laughed softly, and after a few more minutes' cuddling, Gail headed off to the shower.

Felicia had been wandering around for an eternity now, seemingly in circles. She had no idea where she was, or where she could possibly be going. She knew she wasn't in the Garden. Her father had described the Garden to her, and this most certainly wasn't it. Everything was grey, and nondescript. All the buildings and the streets looked exactly alike, and there were no landmarks, and no other people. Was this the Netherworld? If so, though, why wasn't anyone else here?

After Mark had murdered her and dumped her vessel in the alleyway beside the hotel, Felicia's essence had slowly leaked out. Mark had thought that she was gone, and in another moment or two, she would have been. But a tall, gaunt-looking man had suddenly appeared, and he had captured her essence in a vial. Then he had bent down over her and touched her briefly, and the next thing she knew, she was here. Wherever "here" was.

It was funny, too; even though it seemed like she was really nowhere, Felicia could sense something now. Someone was looking for her. She stopped walking and sat down on a stone bench, closing her eyes. She saw the outline of a man in her mind's eye, walking around a lush green forest, looking around. She felt like he was looking for her. Who was he? She concentrated harder, and now she could see that the man had a beard, and she could detect a mild Southern accent when he called her name.

"Bobby?!" Felicia exclaimed.

Bobby looked around the woods. He could swear he'd heard Felicia, calling his name.

When Bobby had looked at Cas's list, he'd zeroed in on Patricia's name right away. But he'd had no particular desire to see Patricia, either. He supposed they'd have to deal with her eventually, but as far as Bobby was concerned, she could go to the bottom of the list for now.

But Felicia's name was also on here, and Bobby was eager to see her again. He remembered she'd told him quite a while back that she loved shady spots, and he thought he knew the area she would favour. He remembered very little of the so-called classified stuff from his hitch as God, but one thing that Bobby did know was that, when a soul went to the Garden to await disposition, it tended to gravitate towards a place where that individual would feel the most comfortable. When Gail had been stabbed to death in Las Vegas, she had been waiting for Cas in the coolest, shadiest spot that the Garden had to offer. Likewise, Bobby felt sure that Felicia would be in the forest. But he'd searched and searched, calling out her name, and there had been no response.

Just a moment ago, though, Bobby'd thought he heard Felicia, just for a second there, calling his name. But he'd stopped short, listening, and the sound wasn't repeated. Probably just wishful thinking on his part. Felicia had been Bobby's top priority, as far as souls went. She'd gotten a really raw deal, in his opinion. Mark had never been brought to answer for her murder. Mark was on Cas's list, too, but Bobby highly doubted that he would be here. He would almost certainly be roasting weenies with Crowley now, if Rob's visions of his father's death proved to be true. But they only had the boy's word for it, and even if Mark was truly dead, he had been a Gospel writer. So Bobby supposed that Cas was just hedging his bets. Bobby almost wished that Mark WAS here, so Cas could get a hold of him. Felicia hadn't meant as much to Cas as she had to Bobby, but he was sure that Cas's smiting hand would be very itchy when it came to Mark.

Bobby wandered for a long time before he had to finally admit that Felicia wasn't here. Then he stood there, thinking. He should probably just move on, but it was bothering him now: Why wasn't she here? He put in a call to Cas, and Cas said that Bobby should come to the High Office then, so that they could talk about it.

Bobby popped into the reception area. "Hi, Bobby!" Laurel exclaimed. She was sitting at the reception desk. Once Cas had moved into the High Office, Laurel had felt obligated to come and work for him, even though he hadn't asked. And truthfully, Bobby hadn't really needed her services any more, anyway. All he mainly did these days was push papers around, and it didn't take two people to do that. So Bobby hadn't asked her to stay with him, because that would have been selfish on his part.

He chatted with her for a couple of minutes, and then, Laurel buzzed the intercom. Technically speaking, of course, they could all just communicate with each other via Angel Radio, but Laurel was a professional, and she did things in a professional way.

"He wants you to wait here a minute, Bobby," Laurel said to him.

Bobby frowned. "We just talked. He knew I was coming. Why's he making me cool my heels out here, then?" he fumed. "Just because he can? Showing off his muscle a little bit, maybe?"

Laurel was uncomfortable. "I'm sorry, Bobby," she told him. It must be weird for him to have to wait outside his own office like this. Well, former office, she amended.

Then Cas buzzed her back, and Laurel advised Bobby that he could go in. He opened the door, and stopped short. Cas was sitting in the big chair behind the desk, and Gail was sitting on the corner of the desk by him. Both she and Cas were smiling. Good Lord, Bobby thought, no pun intended. Had they actually been making Bobby wait out there all that time so they could make out in here, like a couple of horny teenagers?

"Good of you to finally see me," Bobby said in a cranky voice. "Are you sure ya don't want me to come back another time? Or are the two of you finally coming up for some air?"

Gail made a face. "It's not what you think, Bobby. We just heard from Ethan. After Cas saw that Ethan's son liked to play baseball, he built an annex, and put a ball diamond in it. Now, families will have a place to play. I told Cas we should have Laurel make up some flyers to put up around Heaven, and form a softball league. Of course, all the teams will be the Angels, so the standings would be very confusing. But, still..."

"And we both thought that was funny, so that's why we were smiling when you came in," Cas said, a bit sharply. "Gail was in close proximity to me because that is the way we are, and we do not have to apologize to anyone for it." Cas was annoyed. Maybe it was because, just a short time ago, Patricia'd had him convinced that physical affection with his own wife was a Sin. But, even though Gail had joked about "making out" here, Cas would never have been able to do that, and Gail knew it. There was still a large part of him that would always regard this place as his Father's office, and Gail respected that. They would show each other casual and chaste affection here, but that was all. They had private quarters in which to be intimate. But Gail had joked about it, of course, because that was her way. She'd confessed that the Office still intimidated her, and that it was still hard for her to grasp that it was her own husband who was God now.

"I'm sorry, Cas, but it's not like there wouldn't be a precedent," Bobby said, shrugging.

"That would be blasphemy, and Gail and I both know it," Cas said irritably. "Please, give us a little credit."

Gail looked back and forth from one man to the other, puzzled. How had the conversation taken such a turn? She tried to spin it around. "Ethan's over the moon," she told Bobby. "Wait till you meet his little son, George. He reminds me of Rob, when he was that age. We'll have to get some aluminum bats, and you can teach him how to hit."

Her comments had the desired effect. "What makes you think I can teach a kid how to hit a baseball?" Bobby said. His beard twitched as he was saying it, though.

"Because, in every baseball movie I've ever seen, there's a veteran coach, imparting his wisdom in the dugout. We may have lots of Angels in the outfield, but we need a manager," she said pertly.

"OK, well...it just so happens that I was a pretty good hitter, back in the day," Bobby said proudly. "I reckon I can teach him a thing or two, if Ethan wants me to."

Gail's smile widened. "There you go. Maybe we can round up a few more kids, and re-form the Bad News Bears."

Bobby laughed. "Speaking of Rob, I looked all over for Felicia, Cas, and she wasn't there. That's what I wanted to talk to you about."

Cas was surprised. He'd never anticipated that she wouldn't be in the Garden. "Then where could she possibly be?" he mused out loud. "She wouldn't be in Hell, or even in Purgatory, I'm sure."

"Could she be in the Netherworld, maybe?" Gail ventured.

Cas was frowning. "Perhaps. But I felt sure she was going to be in the Garden, and I was going to have you set up her hearing, once we found her."

"Hearing? What are you talking about?" Gail asked him, confused.

"Her hearing," Cas repeated calmly. "The hearing to decide the disposition of her soul."

"Why would we need a hearing for that?" Bobby asked, puzzled.

"To give her a chance to explain herself," Cas said patiently, as if talking to a couple of young children. "She deserted Heaven years ago, when I was still a member of the Upper Echelon. Then she took up with a Lieutenant of Lucifer, and when I proposed that we deal with Mark accordingly when we were trying to find Lucifer, she refused to cooperate with me. Can you imagine how many lives could have been saved if we had been able to kill Lucifer back then? And then, as if that weren't enough, she snuck out of her house to meet Mark, lying to everyone about where she was going. Now, why on Earth would she have done that, if she had nothing to hide? I think, at minimum, she owes us a few answers, and I intend to get them before I just arbitrarily ascend her."

Gail and Bobby looked at each other, astonished. Cas was putting the worst possible spin on those situations. "Look, I don't know what happened here years ago, because I wasn't here at the time," Bobby said, and the growl had come back into his tone now. "But as far as I do know, the reasons she left Heaven were between her and Ignatius. But you should know better than anyone that people make mistakes, and that there are at least two sides to every story."

Oh, great. Now Bobby was making a not-so-thinly veiled reference to Cas's own checkered past, Gail thought. That was sure to go over big with her husband. Time for a diversionary tactic again.

"Before you get mad at Bobby, I need to go on record as saying that I agree with him," Gail told Cas. "I think you're reading way too much into things. When we find her, we'll talk to her, but I don't think we need any sort of a hearing."

Cas regarded her coolly. "You're entitled to your opinion, of course. You both are. But if I decide there will be a hearing, we will hold a hearing."

"What you're talking about is a tribunal," Bobby said bluntly. "You're just calling it by a different name."

Cas had picked up a pen, just to have something to do with his hands while they all spoke. But the pen snapped in two now, and a stack of files that were on the floor in the corner of the Office suddenly burst into flames. Cas waved his hand at them and they were instantly doused, but he was glaring at Bobby now.

But Bobby was looking at Gail. "You know I'm right, don't you?" he appealed to her. "Surely you don't agree with this."

Normally, Gail would have joked around to defuse the tension, telling him not to call her Shirley, or something like that. But this was a bit of a sore spot for her, too. Cas was better now, but every once in a while, he would still pull some of that "my Word is The Word" crap that he'd been spouting before his trip to the desert. But, what could she do about it? He WAS God, wasn't he?

"No, I don't agree with it, Bobby," she said, agitated. "But if Cas is going to be stubborn about it, there's not much we can do. He's God, right? Although, I swear, sometimes I just think he wants to be God so he can have the illusion that he's my boss. And I guess he sort of, kind of, is, at least, technically, in this Office. But that's only because he's got that Godly white glow-y thing going for him." Then she turned to her husband. "But the bottom line is, you're my spouse, but you're NOT my boss, and you never will be. Just in case you had any doubts. If you insist on going ahead with it, there's nothing I can do about it. But it's wrong, Cas. We should just talk to her, and give her the benefit of the doubt. End of story."

Cas was quiet for a moment. Maybe he should think about it some more. If these two were so adamantly opposed to the idea, perhaps he was wrong. But Bobby had set his teeth on edge when he had used the word "tribunal". Bobby could always be trusted not to sugar-coat things, but he should know what a sore spot that was for Cas.

"I'll think about it some more," Cas said quietly.

Gail smiled. "Thanks, sweetie." She was pretty sure that signaled that he would capitulate.

"OK, well, it's a moot point, anyway," Bobby added. He liked Cas, but he wasn't about to thank him for agreeing to consider doing the right thing. "She's not IN the Garden. So, what now?"

Cas was frowning. He was thinking about what Gail had said about the Netherworld. "I will set up a meeting, then, to find out if Felicia has been taken to the Netherworld."

Gail's heart sank. "Are you talking about who I think you're talking about?"

Cas's lips twitched briefly. "I'm afraid so. But at least this time, my blade can remain in my pocket. We may want to look up a recipe or two online, though."

Bobby knew who they were talking about too, of course. He couldn't help but wonder what Death's reaction had been when he'd learned about the rapid changes to Heaven's administration. But at least Cas wasn't talking Holy War any more. Still, Cas and Death had never really been able to see eye to eye, although if Gail was present at the meeting, she might be able to act as a buffer between the two. Just as she had here, with Bobby and Cas. There was just something about this Office, Bobby supposed. No matter which one of them had been God at the time, he and Cas had certainly had their share of clashes here. Just like two roosters at a cock fight. Gail may have mellowed Cas out quite a bit over the years that she had known him, but Cas was still an Alpha male, and so was Bobby. That was just the way it was.

But Bobby had just thought of something else, now. "Hey, switching gears for a second," he said to the couple, "what are the plans for tomorrow?"

Gail froze. "Tomorrow?" she repeated, her heart sinking again.

"Yeah. Tomorrow. Jody's birthday," Bobby said.

Oh, no. "THAT'S what I was forgetting!" Gail exclaimed, looking at Cas. "Jody's birthday! With everything else that's been going on, I completely forgot!" She started to fret. "We've got to get her a present. What do you guys think? What would she like?" Gail laughed at her own question. "Considering her circumstances, probably just one uninterrupted nights' sleep, and some adult conversation."

Cas perked up. "Why don't we get a babysitter for her and Frank, and we can all go out to a nice restaurant for dinner?" he suggested. "Perhaps Liz would like to sit with Angela."

"That's a great idea, Cas!" Gail enthused. "She'd love that, I'm sure. And Frank already knows Liz, so he and Jody wouldn't have to worry about leaving Angela with a stranger."

Now, the three Angels were smiling. It wasn't too long ago that they were completely cut off from Earth, and from their human family and friends, courtesy of Patricia. But things were definitely different now.

Cas took his cell phone out of his pocket. "I'll call Frank," he said eagerly. "I'll ask him where Jody would like to eat. Then, Gail and I will go to the place, and make reservations. Maybe we'll see if the restaurant has a private room, for the whole group." He started counting guests on his fingers.

Gail was elated. Now, THIS was the way that things should be. She blessed Bobby for bringing up the subject, and Jody, for having a birthday. "We'll let you know where, and what time," she said to their friend. "And, since we're going to Earth anyway, I can pick up a gift for Jody from you too, if you want."

"Thank you, dear. That would be nice," Bobby said affably. "Well, I'll get back to work now. Talk to you later." He winked out.

The next night, the arrangements had all been made, courtesy of the two-finger system. Cas had just returned to the bunker with Nicole on his arm.

"Wow, a personal limo ride from God, himself," she marveled, approaching Dean for a kiss. "Screw Hollywood; you can't get any more VIP than that." She gave Dean a hug and a kiss on the lips, and then she looked at Cas again. "So, what am I supposed to call you, now?"

"Nothing different. 'Cas' is fine," he said, smiling. "Although if you asked Dean, you might get a different answer."

"Don't be a smartass, your Godship," Dean retorted. He put his arms around Nicole and gave her a squeeze.

"Besides, my darling wife keeps me grounded, as the expression goes," Cas added.

"Which is kind of funny, coming from an Angel," Sam remarked with a smile.

"He's not just AN Angel now, Sam, he's THE Angel," Gail said proudly.

Sam handed Quinn a drink. "So, what's going on in Heaven?" he asked Gail. "Are you making lots of changes?"

"Yes, and no," Gail replied. "I'm doing a realignment of the board. Remember I told you about that separate ad hoc board I wanted to form, to adjudicate suicides? Bobby is going to head up that group. It'll be him, Laurel, Chuck, and Kevin. I've asked Liz, Henri and Paul to fill their spots on the board. Ethan's going to step back from the board, and he's resigning as head of Law Enforcement. He wants to spend more time with his family. He IS going to continue teaching at the Academies, though."

"Who's going to be the new Sheriff in town, then?" Frank asked, uncapping a bottle of beer.

Cas gave him a crooked smile. "Me," he said shortly.

"Well, I guess there won't be any more criminals in Heaven, then," Jody said, smirking. She raised her glass in salute to him. It was her second cocktail already, but, the hell with it. She was over 21, she wasn't driving, and dammit, it was her birthday.

"It's funny you should say that, though," Gail said to her sister-in-law. "Ever since Cas took the reins, we haven't had any crimes of any kind, and there's nobody currently being held at the prison."

"That's 'cause everybody's too scared of Cas to do anything wrong," Dean wisecracked.

Gail laughed. "You're probably right," she said, stretching up to kiss her husband on the cheek. "He's very frightening. Aren't you, sweetie?"

Cas sighed, shaking his head. "Yes, I'm very scary. Outside of this room." He put his arm around Gail's waist as everyone laughed.

"But seriously, we're well on our way to a Utopian society," Gail said to their friends. "Everyone seems pretty happy with the new regime. Liz and Ethan's wife, Karen, are opening up a school. Before, kids just stayed at home, but we don't think that's healthy. I think it'll be great for the kids to hang around together and learn things, just like they do here on Earth." She smiled. "It's too bad some of you guys can't commute to Heaven. I'd love to have Sam as a guest instructor, on lore."

"Hey! What about me?" Frank protested.

"You?!" Gail scoffed. "Anything you're an expert in, I'm sure those kids' parents wouldn't want them to learn."

"Man, can't you do anything about her, Cas?" Frank complained. "Can't you lay down the law, or something? You're God, aren't you? Aren't you, like, her boss, then?"

"Absolutely, Frank," Cas replied. "Just the same as you are Jody's boss."

"Want some aloe for that burn, Frank?" Sam said, grinning.

"That was a good one, Cas," Dean told their friend. "But, hey, I've got a question for you: We're your friends, right?"

"You're my family, Dean," Cas said warmly. Gail smiled. She couldn't get get over the difference between him now, and when he sat in God's chair. He was so much happier and more relaxed when he was here.

"Even better," Dean acknowledged. "So, if we're God's family, where's our stuff?"

"Stuff?" Cas asked him, puzzled.

"Yeah," Dean replied. "Our swag. You know: millions of dollars, garage full of cars, longer lives...Come on, Cas. Make with the loot."

"Cas lives in Heaven, not in a magic lamp," Gail chided Dean in a dry voice.

"You know what, buddy? Look around you. You've got all of that stuff and more, already," Frank added. He put his arms around Jody's waist. "Really, what more do you need?"

"Relax. I was only joking," Dean said to everyone. "I know how lucky I am." He gave Nicole another squeeze, then lifted his beer bottle in salute. "I've got the most important thing you could want: family, and friends. People to love."

"Wow, Dude, how drunk ARE you?" Sam quipped, but Dean just smiled.

"Besides, isn't Greed one of the Seven Deadly Sins?" Nicole said teasingly, nudging Dean.

"I hate to tell you this, but I'm pretty sure all of us have been guilty of all of those, at some time or another," Jody said, handing her empty glass to Frank. She smiled slyly. "Even Cas."

"Uh-oh. Them thar's smiting words," Frank quipped.

"No, Jody's right," Cas said mildly. "We all slip, from time to time. But, many of the ancient laws are open to interpretation."

"I think we should update the Sins to reflect modern times, anyway," Gail said, smiling. "Like, maybe, texting while driving should be one."

"Leaving the toilet seat up," Jody said promptly, and both Quinn and Nicole raised their glasses and said in unison, "Hear, hear."

"People who name their kids things like Apple, or Rainbow," Frank contributed.

Cas was shaking his head, smiling. His wonderful, funny, irreverent family. He took Gail's hand and brought it to his lips. I'm so sorry we had a disagreement, he told her on their private channel. I love you more than anything, and I place you above all others. My Will might be The Will, but your will is my will. So it has always been, and so it will always be.

She smiled up at him. I love you more than anything too, sweetie, she said to him in her mind. And I love it when we're all together like this. This is what true happiness feels like. This is what we went through all those centuries of pain for, so that we could end up here.

"Let's go to dinner," Cas said out loud.

VIGNETTE - FIGHT LIKE A GIRL

It was a good thing that Cas and Gail had booked a private room at the back of the restaurant, because it was turning out to be a rather raucous celebration. This was a slightly more upscale establishment than any of them were used to frequenting, but Jody had read a couple of reviews online which had raved about the food, and she'd wanted to give it a try. She couldn't wait to get a thick, juicy steak, and a baked potato loaded with everything. When she wasn't caring for Angela, which still took up the majority of her time, Jody had begun to work out in the basement of their house, where Frank kept the weapons locked up. Her husband had also installed a mini-gym down there, and encouraged Rob to work out in it. If Rob hoped to be a Hunter someday, Frank said, his son had to bulk up. So Jody had been going down there when Angela was napping, and she had begun to get herself back into shape. It was a lot harder now, at her age, and after having recently had a baby. But she was determined to do it. Jody loved being a wife and mother, but she was more than just those things, and she wanted to make sure she didn't lose sight of that. This particular birthday was a milestone, and it was a big one. She couldn't allow herself to get soft, and complacent. With their family, and the way they lived their lives, the next fight was likely just around the corner.

But tonight was her birthday, and Jody was going to let her hair down. She'd already arranged with Frank and Rob to let her lie in bed undisturbed for as long as she wanted to tomorrow. At her age, hangovers were a lot harder to get over, as well. But she damn well deserved it, after everything her body had been put through lately.

"Pass that beer down here, Sammy," Jody said, and Sam's eyebrows rose. She hardly ever called him that. Then he grinned. Jody was getting tipsy. Hey, good for her. "Comin' right up, Jodes," he retorted good-naturedly.

"Respect your elders," she shot back, grabbing the beer bottle he'd passed to Frank out of her husband's hand.

"How old are you, anyway?" Quinn asked, and the men at the table winced. "What?" Quinn said. "Why can't a woman ask another woman her age?"

"Better you than me," Dean said, taking a drink. "Sammy, better hide the steak knives, just in case."

"You know what?" Jody said, affably enough. "The hell with it. Age is just a number. I don't have a problem with telling you how old I am. It's a badge of honour, really. Every grey hair on my head is there for a reason."

"I can't believe I'm finally gonna find out how old you are," Dean remarked.

"Oh, look. One of the reasons for some of that grey hair is speaking," Jody quipped. "Every time you guys would call me, saying you had a weird case you wanted to run by me? Grey hair."

"But if it hadn't been for us, you never would have met Frank," Sam pointed out.

"The primary reason for my grey hair," she quipped again, taking a swig of beer.

Frank put his arm around his wife, grinning. "What I hear you saying is that you love me very much," he said happily.

"Yeah, yeah," she grumbled good-naturedly.

"Besides, I found a grey hair the other day, too," Frank added.

Gail nudged him. "Ummm, I hate to tell you this, but..." She pointed to his head. Frank had been greying for quite some time now. It had freaked her out at first, but she had come to terms with it by now.

"I never said it was on my head," he said pointedly.

Her face scrunched up in an expression of disgust, once she realized what he was saying. "Ewwwwww! Frank! That's gross! We're about to eat here, you know!"

"YOU'RE going to eat?" he said, surprised.

"Yeah. I asked Cas for an appetite," Gail told him. "This is a special occasion. I think he's even going to eat, too."

"Cool. It'll be, like, the Last Supper, or something," Rob chipped in.

Frank looked at his son for a moment. "Not bad, kid," he remarked. He looked around. "Where IS the Almighty, anyway?"

"Here," Cas said, entering the room. "I had to pick up one of Jody's presents."

"Happy birthday, Jody!" Tommy said. He and Barry were standing behind Cas.

"Hey, you guys!" Jody exclaimed. She jumped up from her chair to greet them. Hugs and kisses were exchanged as the men walked around the table, and then they took their seats.

"If all the Apostles are here now, can we order, already?" Dean said. "I'm starving." He grabbed a menu.

"Actually, I have a question for you," Jody said, tapping Gail on the shoulder on the way back to her seat as Cas sat down beside his wife. "Is Cas omnipresent now?"

Gail laughed. "I wish."

"Well, I don't," Dean said, flipping through the pages of the menu. "He doesn't need to see what I'm up to, most of the time."

"Oh? And what exactly would that be, seeing as I'm out of town almost all the time?" Nicole said, poking him playfully. She had her chin on his shoulder, looking at his menu with him. She could have grabbed her own, but he smelled really good, and she was really happy to be this close to him after a long time of being apart. She gave his earlobe a little kiss and he put his hand on her thigh under the table and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"What did you ask Gail?" Sam wisecracked. "If Cas is omnipotent?"

"Hey, Dude, come on! That's kind of mean, isn't it?" Dean objected. "Gail's sitting right there!" Sam leaned down and said something in his brother's ear. "Oh," Dean said. "Never mind." They all laughed.

"If he took public transportation, would he be riding the omnibus?" Rob said hopefully, looking at Frank for approval.

His dad grinned. "While I applaud your initiative, Young Grasshopper, the educational process continues. Let me instruct you as to the art of constructing a great joke."

"Never mind that right now, I'm with Dean," Jody said, looking eagerly at her menu. "Let's get some food, already. At least appetizers, anyway. I need something to munch on. I'm planning on having wine for dinner, so I don't want to be snockered before my steak comes."

"I kinda wish you would," Bobby said suddenly, his beard twitching furiously. "You're a fun drunk."

"Bobby! You shouldn't say that in front of my son!" Jody exclaimed, but then, she looked at Rob. "He's right, though. I'm really funny when I'm drunk. Even funnier than your father."

"Aha! So, you admit I'm funny!" Frank said jubilantly. "You all heard her! No takesies-backsies!"

"OK, that's it. Jody's cut off," Dean said, closing his menu with a snap. "That's all we need. Now Frank thinks he's funny."

"Shut up, Winchester. You're just jealous, because you wish you were as funny as me," Frank retorted.

"Yeah, but looks don't count," Barry piped up, and Dean laughed, giving him a thumbs-up.

"Hey, nobody asked you, you...Newfie," Frank called down the table to Barry.

"What did you just call me?" Barry said, bemused.

"Isn't that what you call a Canadian when you want to insult them?" Frank asked him.

Tommy laughed. "That's for people on the East Coast, Frank. We're all the way across the country, on the Left Coast, as people call it."

"Oh," Frank said. He thought for a moment. "Well, what do you call guys from Vancouver, then?"

"Potheads," Nicole blurted out, and Barry and Tommy laughed. "I'm sending you a mental high-five right now," Barry told her.

"Hey, where's Carolyn?" Jody asked them. "Why didn't you bring her?"

"She sends her regrets," Tommy told her. "She's got a touch of the flu. Nothing serious, but she said she just wants to get some sleep, if Peter'll let her."

They started to launch into a conversation about babies as Dean rolled his eyes. He kicked Rob under the table. "Hey, Rob," he said loudly. "When do you want to drive with me again?"

"Better make it soon," Rob replied. "Are you free tomorrow?"

Gail perked up. "I'd like to get in on that," she told them.

Dean groaned. "Man, I don't know, Gail. If you're gonna try driving again, we'd better have your hubby riding shotgun."

"Oh, har, har. Nope," Gail retorted. "As much as I love being around Cas, he's much too busy. He's got millions of souls in the Garden, awaiting disposition. As it is, I'm going to be really busy too, organizing those boards I told you guys about, so this'll probably be my last lesson for a while."

"Well, thank God for that, anyway," Dean said fervently.

"You're welcome," Cas said over his menu, and everybody laughed again.

Finally, a waiter made his appearance in the room. He started at the opposite end of the table, taking Barry's order and then moving on, counter-clockwise.

"Why the hurry?" Dean asked Rob, as they waited to place their orders.

"Because I'm going to stay with Barry and Tommy in Vancouver for a few months," the teenager replied.

"Why's that?" Sam said, curious.

Frank shrugged. "The kid deserves a holiday. He's been studying, training, and slaving away around the house. When we were up there for those guys's wedding, we talked about it, but we decided to wait until Carolyn had the baby. Tommy's gonna take him to the paper, and get him an internship there."

"They have a pretty good transit system there, but it doesn't go everywhere," Rob added. "If I want to go up to Whistler, I have to drive, so I wanted to make sure I was good at it before I go. I don't think I need to worry, really, but I just wanted to work on my parallel parking a bit."

"He'll be fine," Dean said confidently. "I taught him."

"Well, that's why I want you to teach me, too," Gail said earnestly.

"You?" Dean scoffed. "Dale Earnhardt couldn't teach you."

"Don't you mean Dale Earnhardt, Jr.?" Frank chipped in.

"Not necessarily," Dean said, smirking. He looked around for the waiter, who was almost to where Cas and Gail were sitting now. "Considering where she lives, she'd probably be talking to the dad."

Frank laughed. "Oh, that's harsh, man."

Gail was starting to feel pressure now. She could see the waiter approaching out of the corner of her eye, but she hadn't actually decided what to order yet. Since she didn't eat that often any more, it was hard to know what would taste good to her.

She looked up at the server. "Can I ask what 'seasonal' vegetables are?" she asked him.

"Vegetables that are in season," he replied.

She looked sharply at him for a moment. Oh, brother. Everybody was a comedian.

"No," she attempted to clarify. "I meant, what ARE they?"

"Seasons?" he said sarcastically. "That's, you know, when the weather changes."

Gail looked at him, astonished. He had to be kidding her with this. Had Frank planted this guy as a practical joke, or something? She looked at her brother, but he wasn't smiling.

The waiter was standing there, tapping the pad of paper with his pen impatiently. Gail cleared her throat and tried again. "I'm sorry, I guess we're not communicating," she said, as patiently as she could. "I meant, what kind of vegetables would they be?"

He opened his mouth, and for a split second, Gail thought he was going to say "seasonal". And if he did, he was going to feel her fork right in his face. But all he did was fetch a heavy, dramatic sigh. "I'll check," he said testily, and stalked out of the room.

Gail sat there, open-mouthed. "Wow," she breathed. "Is it me?"

"No, it's not you," Barry said quickly. "That guy's giving our people a bad name."

"Who? Canadians?" Jody quipped. She looked at Gail. "What a toolbag," Jody remarked. "We can go elsewhere, if you want."

"No," Gail said, alarmed. "We're here now, and I know you were looking forward to eating at this place. I can handle him. Don't worry about it. I don't want it spoiling our night."

"Ok, if you're sure," Jody said, but she was already looking at her menu again in anticipation.

Cas was doing the slow burn now. He looked at his wife. She seemed all right, but he was angry at the way the server had spoken to her.

The man came back into the room, making a beeline for Gail. "The vegetables are: carrots, cauliflower, and squash."

She wrinkled her nose for an instant. As far as she remembered, she didn't really like squash, and she wasn't even sure she liked cauliflower. Now, she was indecisive again.

"I can see that this is really hard for you," the waiter said condescendingly. "So, I'll tell you what: Why don't I put the vegetables on a separate plate? Then you can decide at your leisure whether you like them, or not. How would that be?"

"Fine. That'll be fine," Gail said quickly. She closed her menu with a snap and gave it to him.

"What will you have, Sir?" the server asked Cas, in a respectful tone.

"Excuse me. I want to go wash my hands for dinner," Gail said. She got up and left the room.

Gail found the washroom, and she headed to one of the sinks to wash her hands and face. She was shaking with anger now. That condescending, snotty little - What had she ever done to him? she thought. "And then, of course, he talks to Cas politely and deferentially. I should just have Cas smite him off the face of the freaking planet," she fumed, snatching a handful of paper towels from the dispenser. She tried to take a couple of beats. OK, time to calm down. There was no way she was going to make a scene and ruin Jody's birthday. And if she asked Cas to smite that guy, he might actually do it. She just had to let it go. The guy was just a bee sting, she thought. That did the trick; she laughed now, remembering what Gabriel had said about Crowley. She took a deep breath, collecting herself.

Meanwhile, Cas had placed his order with the server, and his eyes followed the man around the table now. He picked the sharp steak knife up from his place setting and started to play with it, turning it over in his hands. He continued to glare at the waiter with a steady gaze. Eventually, the man looked up and saw the way that Cas was looking at him, and he continued to walk further down the table, looking uneasy.

Cas didn't want to make a scene either, but he was absolutely seething now. He was fairly certain that Gail hadn't left the room for the purpose of washing her hands.

Gail came back into the room, and Cas sprang to his feet, dropping the knife on the table. He pulled out her chair for her and seated her back down beside him. "Are you all right, my love?" he said softly.

"I'm fine, Cas," she assured him.

Fred saw her returning to her seat, and he figured he'd better do some damage control. So he came back around the table to speak to Gail. "I'm sorry," he said to her. "It's been a long night, and we're short-handed. I apologize." There. That ought to do it. He didn't even know why he'd been so bitchy to her, really. Fred didn't even know the woman. She just had a kind of Princess-y quality that had rubbed him the wrong way. Maybe part of it was because her husband was one of the most handsome guys that Fred had ever seen. When they'd first come in, the guy had pulled out her chair for her, poured her a glass of water, and flagged down another server to get her a drink. Fred had been annoyed. He had never gone out with a guy who'd treated him like that. Never. And then, when Fred had gone to take her order, she had questioned him about the vegetables like he'd committed a crime, or something. What the hell did he know about the vegetables, and what the hell did he care? His boyfriend had dumped him last night, he'd had too much to drink afterwards, and his feet hurt. And here she was, sitting with all of these good-looking men, wrinkling her nose at Fred over some damn vegetables. So, he had snapped. Sue him. But her husband had spooked the crap out of Fred. When he'd moved on, taking the rest of the orders, the guy's eyes had followed the waiter everywhere around the room. And while Fred would normally have loved that, in this instance it had creeped him out. The guy had been playing with a sharp knife, glaring at Fred like he was considering how many different cuts of meat he could carve Fred into. So, even though Fred didn't really feel like it, he'd figured he had better apologize.

Gail looked at Fred as he was speaking, but she said nothing in response. So after a moment, the server said, "Well, I'll go place your orders, then." He walked out of the room.

Gail had mixed feelings now. She had been considering talking to the waiter discreetly, away from the group, to express her feelings about how he had spoken to her. But he hadn't given her the chance, because he had come and apologized first. And she supposed she should be satisfied with that. But his apology hadn't exactly had the ring of sincerity to it. She had the feeling that the server had only apologized because Cas had intimidated him into it. She'd noticed that Cas had been holding a steak knife when she'd first come back into the room, and she'd seen the stricken expression on the waiter's face. It didn't take a genius to put two and two together. She did love it when Cas stuck up for her that way, though. She had told him so before, fairly often. So, therein lay the dilemma. Gail wanted to be a strong, independent woman, and she'd certainly come a long way in that regard. But her husband was God now, the most Alpha of males, and he had always conducted himself within an old-fashioned, chivalrous code of behaviour. But if she let him intimidate the waiter instead of confronting the man herself, wasn't she subverting her own goal?

While she was thinking about that, Cas reached out, taking her hands in his. "Can I ask you a question?" he asked her softly. When she nodded, he said, "Do you feel that I condescend to you like that?"

Gail opened her mouth, and then she closed it again. That was actually a bit of a tricky question, especially lately. When Cas had first become God, he'd had that whole religious-mania type of thing going on, because of the drugs that Patricia had pumped into him. And he had just been getting his feet wet, trying to find the right balance between piety and humanity. Once he'd gotten back from the desert, the mantle of the Office had seemed to settle more comfortably on his shoulders. Even though they'd had that disagreement yesterday, it had been more of an opposition of viewpoints than an "I"m-God-and-you're-not" kind of thing, she thought.

"No, Cas," she told him. "No. I have never felt that you condescend to me. You treat me as an equal, and I appreciate that. I should really tell you that more often." She smiled. "Even to the point of having a healthy disagreement with me from time to time. But, don't worry. You know that I wouldn't hesitate to point it out to you if I felt like you did."

They shared a laugh, and then Gail sighed. The bottom line was that she loved Cas more than anything, and she loved it when he took her part. There was just something so hot about a man who was willing to filet another man who had treated you badly. So hot. Not that she'd ever sanction an act like that, of course. But a woman could fantasize, couldn't she?

Gail touched Cas's face. "I love you, sweetie," she said. "Don't ever change."

"Hey, Mr. and Mrs. Kissyface," Frank piped up. "Other people are in the room." Gail and Cas smiled at each other, and then they turned their attention back to their family and friends.

"I wanna propose a toast," Frank said, lifting his glass. "To my wife. The woman of my dreams, the light of my bulb, the mother of at least one of my kids, and the toughest, most badass woman I know. To Jody. Happy birthday, Babe."

They all drank to Jody, and then she said, "Since we're waiting for food, I want to open my presents now. Pass 'em down, Barry."

As the presents started making their way down the table, Frank looked at Cas and Gail again. "That reminds me," he said to the couple. "We still have both of your wedding candlesticks on our dining room table. Do you guys want them back?"

Cas and Gail glanced at each other. They'd forgotten about that. After they had used the candlesticks to drive Patricia out of the High Office, Gail had popped them quickly over to Frank and Jody's place while Cas had been changing clothes at the bunker. She hadn't wanted them to be without the protection that the candlesticks provided for too long.

Cas looked at the Winchesters, but they were already shaking their heads. "I know what you're gonna say," Dean told him, "but I don't think we really need ours any more, Cas. The bunker's about as fortified as it's gonna get, and Lucifer's long gone. Let them have both. Unless you want one for your guys's place."

Cas smiled slowly. "I sincerely doubt we'll need the protection, given my recent change in status. If you're all right, then, we might as well leave both at Frank's, for the time being."

"I'll take you up on that," Frank said, as Jody started to open her presents. "By the way, has anybody heard from the King of Smell, or his mother, Cruella?" Frank added.

"Endora," Jody said, shaking her gift from Sam and Dean.

"Huh?" her husband said, puzzled.

"Cruella's the Dalmation lady," Jody stated, tearing at the wrapping paper. "Endora's the witch."

"In any event, no, we haven't heard anything from them lately," Cas said, leaning back in his chair. "I don't think we need to worry too much about it, Frank. They know how I feel about my family."

Jody elbowed her husband. "Hey, look at this. Sam and Dean got me those DVDs we were talking about." She held them up for everyone to see. "Top 20 Serial Killers of the 21st Century?" Tommy said, squinting down the table. "You're kidding me."

"What?" Jody said instantly. "Don't all women ask for serial killer DVDs for their birthday?"

"I know you're being funny; otherwise, I would remind you that you're barking up the wrong tree, as far as what women want," Tommy shot back good-naturedly.

"Well, it's what I wanted, anyway," Jody remarked. "Thanks, Sam."

"Hey! Those are from both of us!" Dean objected.

"Yeah? Did you buy these, or wrap them?" Jody asked him. Dean was silent, and she nodded. "That's what I thought. Thanks, Sam."

After Jody unwrapped her presents and thanked everyone, the appetizers came, and the group got another round of drinks.

"I know it's not MY birthday, but I wanted to ask you for a favour, Cas," Frank piped up.

"Sure, Frank, you can ask me anything," Cas said, taking a sip of ice water.

"You've been looking for people in the Garden to take to Heaven, right?" Frank continued hesitantly.

"Yes, Frank. Both Bobby and myself, actually," Cas responded, smiling faintly. "I believe you might call that outsourcing. Why? Are you concerned about your parents? They would already be Angels."

"No, although that's good to know," Frank replied. "I was thinking about Matty and the boys. Is there any way that you guys could find them, and make sure they're okay? Well, you know, in a manner of speaking?"

Cas considered for a moment. "Do you realize how many millions upon millions of souls are currently in the Garden, Frank? They've been stacking up for quite some time now. Apparently, Patricia didn't bother ascending any of them."

"Yeah, but you're God," Frank argued. "Can't you just snap your fingers, and boom, there they are?"

Cas shook his head. "No, Frank, it doesn't work like that. But now that you have asked, I'll put them on my list, and make them a priority."

Gail grinned, nudging her husband. "Now you know what it's like to be a lottery winner, or something," she quipped. "Suddenly, everybody's coming to you for handouts." She broke off a piece of garlic cheese bread. "Here, have a bite of this," she said to Cas. "That way, when we kiss, you'll have garlic breath, too." She fed him the piece of bread, and Dean rolled his eyes. "Hey, Jody," he said loudly, trying to ignore the Angels, "are you gonna have any more kids?"

Jody's hand paused on the way to her mouth. She had a piece of escargot on her fork, dripping with garlic butter. Maybe she should tell Frank to eat something garlicky, too. Then again, maybe not. She planned on getting fairly drunk tonight. But right now, she was shaking her head in wonderment at Dean's question. "How old do you think I am, anyway?" she asked him, bemused.

"The question was on the floor, but it was never answered," Sam said, grinning. "We thought we were about to find out, and then we mysteriously got off the subject."

Jody ate her piece of escargot, then said, "Well, put it this way: Just think of me as a closed post office. I've stopped making deliveries."

Rob laughed. "That was a good one, Mom," he said. Then he looked at the Winchesters. "Why do you guys care so much about how old my Mom is, anyway?" he asked them. "Aren't you guys all middle-aged?"

"Hey!" Dean objected, but Frank smirked. "I hate to tell you this, Winchester, but the kid is right. Unless we're gonna live beyond a hundred, we're all officially middle-aged now."

Dean laughed shortly. "Us? The kind of lives we lead? No way we're making it even close to a hundred."

"I'll tell you what," Jody said, her mouth full of dinner roll now. She swallowed. "I'll reveal the magic number when we're having coffee and dessert."

The entrees came, and Fred plunked Gail's plate down in front of her. She had gone with the majority and ordered prime rib, and nestled next to it on the plate were potatoes, and those controversial vegetables.

She looked up, but the server had already turned away. Unbelievable. What the hell had been the point of his diatribe, then, if he was just going to slap the vegetables on the same plate, anyway? She sighed, picking up her glass of wine. Ahh, the hell with it.

After everything was served and Fred had left the room again, Nicole said, "If Chuck needs to come to the movie set, does he need your permission, Cas?"

That stopped Cas in his tracks. Did he? But before he could form an opinion about that one way or the other, Gail said, "Actually, he might need MINE. Unless you guys don't mind running one short on the suicide board, Bobby."

"How long would ya need him for?" Bobby asked Dean's girlfriend, and she shrugged. "I don't really know," Nicole answered. "Richard said I should ask. Ted - I mean, Metatron - used to come out for days on end, but it didn't seem like he had much of anything else to do."

"I'll tell you what," Gail said, picking up her fork and knife. "If you can let us know when you need him, and for long, maybe I can sub in for him for a while."

"OK, I'll ask Richard, and let you know," Nicole said affably.

"Didn't you say that Chuck and Laurel are a couple now?" Jody asked.

Gail smiled. "Yes, and I think they're getting pretty serious, too. That's why I asked her to be on the suicide board with him. She's got just the kind of personality that both Chuck and that board need: she's compassionate and fair, but she won't put up with any stuff, either."

"That sounds familiar," Cas said, smiling at his wife.

"Wasn't she your receptionist, though?" Jody asked Cas.

He waved his hand casually. "I don't really need a receptionist, Jody. Everyone knows how to reach me, or Gail. And Gail tells me that Laurel is very bright, and has a lot of good ideas. She deserves the chance to be more than just my receptionist."

"That's well said, sweetie," Gail remarked. She took a bite of her prime rib, chewed for a moment, and then she made a face. She chewed some more, and then swallowed the piece of meat, with some difficulty. She looked around the table at everyone else. They all seemed to be enjoying their food. Even Cas had tucked in to his plate. When was the last time she had seen him eat? Romania, probably. Or maybe it had been Vegas, on one of their date nights. But she looked down at her own plate now, and she was dismayed to see that her prime rib was bloody. Yuk. She'd asked for it to be well done. Obviously, Fred didn't care. Now she was getting really mad. She still didn't want to spoil Jody's birthday, but when was enough...enough?

The banter was flying around the table between bites now, so no one but Cas really noticed that Gail wasn't eating. She poked at the potatoes and vegetables with her fork, but they had blood on them now, too. There was no way. Cas was looking at her curiously now, but he said nothing.

When everyone had finished their plates of food and were starting to sit back in their chairs, Fred came back with a big tray and started clearing the plates. When he got to Gail's seat, he stopped short. "Still working on that?" he said in a snotty tone.

Cas threw his napkin down on the table and started to rise from his chair, but Gail put her hand on his arm, restraining him. "What is your problem?" she asked the server sharply. "You've been rude to me ever since I got here, and I have no idea why. Tell me the truth: did you apologize to me because of my husband, or because you were truly sorry for your tone?"

Fred opened his mouth to retort, and then he closed it again. Her husband was looking murderous now, but the guy was standing down for the moment. But he'd better not push his luck any further. He opened his mouth again, but Gail said, "Thanks. That's all the answer I needed." She took a deep breath, looking at her sister-in-law. "Sorry, Jody, but I need to tell this guy a thing or two," Gail said. Jody sat back in her chair, smiling. She had been hoping that Gail would speak up. She nodded encouragingly.

"I'm very busy - " Fred started to say, but Gail cut him off. "I don't care. You're going to listen to me," she insisted. "You've belittled me in front of my family, you've talked down to me, and you brought me a steak that's basically still mooing, even though I asked you for well done. And I could even overlook all of that, if you hadn't further marginalized me as a person, because you only apologized to me because you're afraid of my husband! I don't know what your problem is with me, and I don't even really care. I just wanted to tell you that I'm a person, and I have feelings. You should be dealing with ME, not looking at my husband. Are we understood?"

Jody banged her beer bottle down on the table, stood up, and said, "Hell, yeah! Up top, Sis!" She stretched across the table, raising her arm, and she and Gail high-fived. Then Jody sat back down, crossing her arms in front of herself. She was proud of Gail, not only for speaking up for herself, but for speaking up for women in general. If that guy had spoken to Jody like that, she would probably have torn him a new one.

"Would you have spoken to my husband, or to any of the men here, the way you spoke to me?" Gail persisted.

"No," Fred said in a subdued tone. "No. Probably not."

"Thank you for your honesty," she said tersely. Then she turned away from him. "You may take my plate."

Fred took her plate away, and then he snatched Cas's plate off the table quickly, as if it were on fire. A part of Fred was convinced that her husband was going to sink his knife into Fred's hand, and then continue to carve upwards from there. But Cas merely sat there, tight-lipped, making no eye contact with the server.

But after Fred left the room again, Cas's face relaxed, and he turned to Gail. "I'm very proud of you," he told her. "I know how hard that was for you. But I know that you needed to do it, for yourself. That was why I didn't intervene."

"Hold the phone a minute," Dean said, puzzled. He held his hand up. "What do you mean, 'how hard that was for her'? I don't remember Mrs. Buzzkill ever having a problem telling ME off before."

Gail turned in her chair to face him. "OK, number one, do you see what you're doing here? You're talking to Cas, not to me. That was the point I was trying to make. That was one of my points, anyway. If you're talking to me, then talk to ME. And secondly, I tell you off because I love you."

"Now, THAT should be a slogan. We could put it on mugs, and T-shirts," Sam wisecracked. "We'd make a fortune. Every woman in the world would want one."

Everyone laughed, and the tension in the room was eased. They all started to talk amongst themselves again, and then Fred came back into the room with a cheesecake on a platter, dessert plates, and a carafe of coffee. "This is on me," he announced, placing the cake in front of Jody. "In fact..." He took the bill for the entire table out of his pocket and ripped it up. "Dinner's on me, folks. I apologize again, and this time, I really mean it. Enjoy your evening." Then he strode out of the room as they all looked at each other in surprise.

"Well, well. How about that," Jody mused aloud. She started cutting pieces of cake for everyone as Barry stood and started pouring them all cups of coffee. Once everyone had a piece of cake in front of them, Sam dug into his shirt pocket and produced a stubby little candle, which he stuck into Jody's piece of cake. Then, he struck a match and lit it.

"Thanks, Sam. But, no singing Happy Birthday," Jody said in a strict voice, pointing at everyone. "I hate that. It's so cheesy."

"OK, whatever you say, Jodes," Sam said good-naturedly. "Make a wish."

Jody thought for a moment, then blew out her candle. Sam and Gail exchanged glances. They'd talked about this already; Sam knew his old friend very well. They cleared their throats simultaneously.

"Hey Jodes, don't make it bad," they sang. "Take a sad song, and make it better."

One by one, everyone at the table joined in, even Cas, and Rob, who had gone online to learn the song. Jody sat back in her chair, bemused. She had to admit, that had been pretty clever of them. And they had her there, because she had forbidden them to sing "Happy Birthday". But she hadn't said anything about singing anything else, had she? And hey, it wasn't so bad. She was a happy individual right now. They'd just gotten a terrific dinner for free, she was surrounded by her loved ones, she had gotten presents, and she was about to top all that off with a cup of coffee and a slab of cheesecake. It didn't get much better than this.

Once the song was finished and everyone was enjoying their coffee and dessert, Cas lifted his coffee cup to Jody in salute. "Gail and I are going to have to buy you another present," he said to her. "This dinner was going to be our gift."

"Wow. God's gonna get you a gift," Rob said to his mother. "That's so cool."

Frank was rubbing his hands together, pretending anticipation. "Oh, boy, oh boy. So many requests, so little time." He looked at Gail. "We should get you insulted in more places, kiddo."

"Oh, yeah?" she shot back. "Well, maybe you should shove some more cake into that big yap of yours."

Frank grinned at Dean. "She only tells me off because she loves me," he said to his friend.

Jody sat back in her chair, holding her stomach. "That was good, but I can't eat another bite."

"So...what's the magic number, Jody?" Tommy said.

Jody looked around at everyone for a moment, and then she said: "50."

"You've gotta be shitting me," Dean said, dropping his fork on his plate.

Jody grinned. "I shit you not."

Sam was also amazed. He'd known Jody a long time, but he'd had no idea.

"Why do you think my hair is going grey?" Jody asked the brothers. She shrugged. "Hey, getting older isn't so bad, when you consider the alternative. Besides, you guys aren't that far behind me."

Dean nodded, reluctantly. Actually, she wasn't wrong about that. Dean himself was going to be 45 years old next year. 45! He couldn't believe it. Where did the time go?

"Yeah, but we're gonna age gracefully, thanks to the waters from the Garden that Cas told us about," Sam said, grinning.

"Hey, maybe THAT could be your present, Jody," Quinn piped up. "Maybe Cas could bring you a bottle of that stuff."

"I smell a marketing opportunity," Frank quipped.

"Nahhhh, I'm fine the way I am," Jody said. "Besides, I'm not aging, I'm ripening to perfection."

"That's a great way to put it," Gail said, smiling.

"You know what? We never did find out how old YOU are," Dean said slyly. Gail raised an eyebrow to him, and he gave her a half-shrug. "You know what I mean," he added.

"It's impolite to ask a lady that question," Cas interjected, and Dean rolled his eyes. "As if it matters," he said to his friend. "However old she was, she's definitely not getting any older now, is she?"

"I think it was Walt Disney who said that growing old is mandatory, but growing up is optional," Bobby remarked dryly. "He musta known you idjits."

"I like that sentiment," Jody said, smiling at him. "And, you know what? The older I get, the less I care what people think of me. Therefore, the older I get, the more I enjoy life."

"And now, for the billion-dollar question," Frank said. "I think it's time we find out, once and for all: how old is Cas?"

"Don't even bother trying to figure that out," Sam said. "We've been asking that one for years. You might as well ask how old the planets are."

"Sam is right," Cas said with a faint smile. "I couldn't even tell you, in terms of years."

"Wow. If we tried to give YOU a birthday cake, we'd probably set off the sprinkler system," Rob said, and Frank clapped the boy on the shoulder. "Way to go, my boy," Frank said proudly. "Way to sass God. I hope your affairs are in order. Have you made out your Will?"

"What would I have a Will for, Dad?" Rob said, shrugging. "I don't own anything." His expression brightened. "Unless you're gonna buy me that car."

"Who said anything about buying you a car?" Frank said, giving Jody a quick wink. "You don't even have a paying job."

"Hey, he's got to start somewhere," Tommy said mildly. "That's how I started. I was a glorified gofer. He's just lucky there's still a newspaper to intern AT. That might not even be an option, in a couple of years. Everything's digital these days."

Gail had noticed Frank and Jody's brief exchange, and she was smiling at her brother now. She could just bet that he and Jody had something planned for Rob's upcoming birthday. "That's OK; we'll use our car for my driving lesson," she piped up now.

"Are you still on that?" Dean said, sighing. "Hey, maybe YOU'RE not worried about getting any older any more, but me and Rob would like to live to see our next birthdays."

"Frank wears reading glasses now," Jody said gleefully.

Gail did a double-take at this bit of information, but then she smiled wickedly at her brother. "Hey, don't stress out about your eyesight fading as you get older," she said to him. "It's just nature's way of protecting you from the shock, as you walk past a mirror."

Frank made a face at his sister. "Oh, har, har. You're lucky your husband's the Almighty, or you'd be so dead right now."

Nicole grinned. "You know how you'll know when you're getting old, Jody? When you have to wear your glasses in the shower just to shave your legs."

Jody had been taking a swig of wine, and she nearly spit it out. She just managed to swallow it, and then she burst out laughing. "That's fantastic!" she exclaimed. Then she laughed some more, wiping tears from her eyes. "I've gotta go to the bathroom, before I pee myself," she said, getting up from her chair. She grabbed her purse. "Thanks, Nicole. That was too funny." She walked out of the room and looked around for the sign for the Restrooms, still laughing.

As she walked into the washroom, her laughter subsided. She let a couple more snickers escape, then urinated, coming out of the stall to wash her hands. She was drying them off with paper towels when her cell phone rang in her purse.

"Hey, Nelly," Jody said with a smile.

"Hi, Jody," Dr. Vukovic said. "Have you got a minute?"

Jody's smile faded. "You're not calling to wish me a happy birthday, are you?"

"No, I'm afraid not," Nelly replied, "and normally, I wouldn't bother you late like this, but you said you wanted the results of your mammograms as soon as I got them."

Jody's stomach lurched. She had snuck off to the breast screening centre recently, after Nelly had nagged her that it had been a while since her last tests. "And?" she prompted.

Nelly sighed. "I'm sorry, Jody. The lump is malignant this time. You have breast cancer."

Jody swore softly. "Are you sure?" she asked her friend.

Nelly frowned, but she understood. If things had been the other way around, she would probably be asking the same thing. "Yes, I'm sure, Jody," she said with compassion. "I even sent the results to an oncologist colleague of mine first, just to make sure. I'm awful sorry, Jody. I wish I had better news. I really wish I did. Is there any way you can come and see me tomorrow? The sooner we take action, the better."

"Sure, Nelly," Jody said, dazed. "I'll drive up and see you tomorrow."

"OK, Jody. Once you get here, we'll talk some more. But, try not to worry. We're going to do everything in our power to nip it in the bud. Okay?" Nelly said.

"OK, Nelly. See you tomorrow," Jody repeated. She hung up her phone and put it back in her purse.

She closed her eyes as a wave of dizziness went through her. Cancer. Cancer. It had to be a mistake. She felt fine. In fact, she felt great. Then Jody laughed at herself scornfully. That had nothing to do with anything. She opened her eyes and looked at herself in the mirror. Damn it. Damn it! But it figured, didn't it? Things had been going a little too well lately, hadn't they?

Jody washed her face and her hands, just to give herself time to calm down. Okay. OK. She took a couple of deep breaths, and then she went back to the group.

"Are you ready to go?" Frank asked her. "I sent Rob out to the car with an armful of your presents, and I told him he could pull the car out front. He was thrilled."

"Don't look so panicked, Jody," Dean said, smirking. "Kid's a good driver. Now, if it was Gail, I'd say we should run. This place would have a drive-thru, whether they wanted one or not."

"I want to go to Sioux Falls tomorrow," Jody blurted out.

Frank was surprised. He thought she'd wanted to sleep in. But the food must have absorbed a lot of the alcohol that was in her system. She'd seemed a little bit drunk earlier, but now she seemed almost sober. "OK," he said agreeably. "Rob's got his driving lesson, but you and me and Angela can go in the Charger. She'll probably sleep the whole way, anyway."

"No. I want to go by myself," Jody told him. "I want to go to the station house, and that's no place for a baby. I just want to check in with some of the guys. I'll be back by suppertime, if I drive like you."

Frank was still a little taken aback, but then, he shrugged. Jody had been stuck at home for months now, taking care of their baby. If she wanted to take a day for herself, she should be able to. "OK, Babe," he said, putting his arm around her waist. He looked around at the others. "Does anybody wanna come back to our place, for some coffee, or a drink, maybe?"

"No offense, guys, but I'm pretty tired," Jody said quickly. "Let's do that another time. Thanks for coming, everybody." She went to everyone and gave them hugs and kisses. She was a lot better at that kind of thing than she used to be. Jody had never been particularly demonstrative with her affection. But now, as she went from person to person, she began to realize how much they all meant to her. This was going to be hard on everyone. But she wanted to see what she was dealing with, first. Once she saw Nelly tomorrow and found out how advanced the cancer was and what her options were, she would talk to Frank, and they would figure out a course of action. But she really wanted Rob to go to Vancouver. His young life had been held hostage for long enough. They would have to tell him, of course. But she would have to put her foot down and insist that he go, anyway.

Jody gave Gail a longer hug than usual, and her sister-in-law looked closely at her face. "Are you OK, Jody?" Gail asked her, and Jody tried on a smile. "I'm fine, Gail. I'm just tired." Then she added, "Way to stick up for the sisterhood tonight." Gail laughed softly as Jody moved on to Cas.

"Are you sure you're all right?" Cas asked Jody. She frowned. Now she understood why Dean got annoyed with the Angels, sometimes. These two were a little too perceptive for her liking. For an instant, she nearly cracked. But, no. She wanted to deal with this her own way. But it was ironic, wasn't it? Here she was, hugging God, and he couldn't do a damn thing for her. If she had an open, bleeding chest wound, he could just reach out and heal it. But what she had was a disease, growing inside of her, and she knew that even Cas couldn't cure it. So, what good was he, then? But then she berated herself. That was no way to think. It wasn't Cas's fault. It wasn't anybody's fault. She vowed to herself that she was never going to be one of those "woe is me" types. Everybody had something, didn't they? The trick was to concentrate on what you could do about it.

"Thanks for the great birthday party, everyone," Jody said. They went outside just in time to see Rob pulling the Charger up to the curb. He parked neatly, and then he got out of the car and opened the door for his mom. "Your chariot awaits," Rob said to Jody. She looked up at him, touching his face impulsively. Her tall, handsome son. Jody almost cracked again. But then Frank yelled something rude at Dean, and they laughed. Jody nodded. They would get through this. They would get through it together, as a family. They always did. She got in the car, and a minute later, they drove away.


	6. Battle Lines

Chapter 6 - Battle Lines

Gail popped into the bunker the next morning, and she headed for the kitchen, following her nose to the smell of coffee, and bacon.

Nicole was cooking breakfast, wearing Dean's robe. "Oh, hi, Gail," she said, smiling. "Can I get you a plate? Or is that a stupid question?"

Gail shook her head. "Don't bother. After my experience with that guy last night, I don't think I'll be eating for a while. Smells good, though."

Nicole flipped the bacon and then opened the cabinet where the plates were. "Thanks," she said. "I figured it's the least I can do. Sam's always the one doing the cooking."

"Here, let me set the table," Gail said, moving to the cabinet. "I'm not doing anything else, anyway. Where are the boys?"

"Dean's in the shower, and I think Sam might still be in bed," Nicole replied. "But I'm making extra for him, just in case. Hey, do you think you could pop me back to the movie set before you and Dean leave?"

"Sure, I don't see why not," Gail said agreeably.

"What's Cas up to today?" Nicole inquired.

"Sorting out more souls," Gail replied casually, laying the plates on the table. Then she paused, grinning. "That sounds really funny, doesn't it? 'What does your husband do for a living?' 'He drives a bus. How about yours?' 'Oh, he decides what to do with people's souls.'"

"What's it like, being married to God?" Nicole asked her, curious.

Gail paused. "You know what? In some ways, it's not really any different. But in other ways, it's VERY different. There's just a certain way that the other Angels look at him now. It's hard to describe, exactly. It's a look of respect, and awe. It's pretty neat, actually. I'm really proud of him." Then she looked around furtively. "And, between you and me, there are extra dividends in the bedroom, too."

Nicole laughed as Dean came into the kitchen, wrinkling his nose. "Awww, geez. Way to spoil my appetite," he said to Gail. He went straight to where Nicole was standing and put his arms around her from behind, kissing her neck. "Thanks for making breakfast," Dean said to his girlfriend. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

Gail's mouth dropped open. "All the years that Sam and I made breakfast here, and you didn't offer to help us once!" she exclaimed.

"That's 'cause you guys had it under control," Dean said, shrugging.

He reached down and snagged a piece of bacon from the paper towels Nicole was laying it on, popping it in his mouth. "Oooh! Hot!" he exclaimed.

"Next time, I'll cook it cold, then," Nicole retorted, but she was smiling. After the night they'd just had, she was more than willing to feed Dean anything he wanted.

"My mother used to say that!" Gail said, and then she added, "Well, I guess I mean Frank's mother, actually."

"Did you ever find out any more about your birth parents?" Nicole asked Gail.

Gail flashed back to the seance room at Quinn's, and the horrifying encounter with her father. She looked at Dean, who gave her an almost imperceptible head shake. "Nope," Gail said.

Dean poured himself a cup of coffee, then brought the carafe over to where Nicole's mug was, on the counter beside the stove. "Refill?" he offered.

Gail was rolling her eyes now. Dean was nuzzling Nicole's face with his, and they were both smiling. "Ewwww," Gail said sarcastically. "Do you have to be smooching all the time? People have to eat in this room, you know." They both stopped, looking at her. "You understand what I'm doing here, right?" Gail asked Dean pointedly. He smirked. "Yeah, I get it," he replied, bringing his mug over to the table and sitting down. "Speaking of which, where's Mr. Kissyface today?"

Cas was smiling. He and Gail had had a wonderful night last night. First, the get-together with their human family, and then later, in their suite. After they had made love the first couple of times, they had cuddled and talked about everyone, and their circumstances.

"Did you have the feeling that there was something going on with Jody at the end of the dinner, though?" Gail asked her husband.

"Yes, I did," he said, frowning. "She had a strange look in her eyes, and when she hugged me, I got a very guarded sort of feel from her. I was almost tempted to touch her forehead, but I restrained myself. Actually, due to my current status, I could probably just read any of their minds, without even touching them. But that would be an invasion of their privacy."

Gail had nodded. He was right. "You know what?" she said to him, kissing him softly on the cheek. "I'm very proud of you for the way you're doing your job. You're using your power in exactly the right way, but you're not letting it go to your head, either. You're a wonderful God, Cas."

His eyes had misted over. "I appreciate that, my darling," he'd said. "I think I finally understand what Father's intention was, when he created the human race. Last night was a good example. When I first took the Office, Patricia's brainwashing had me convinced that the eradication of Evil was my number one priority. But now, I see that the most important things are love, and compassion, and fellowship with one another."

Gail smiled. "And that's why we're well on our way to a Utopian society here in Heaven. The people tend to take on the personality of their leader. If you introduce a culture of love, that's the culture we'll have."

Cas had nodded at that, and then he had answered her smile. "Well, right now, I think I would like to lead by example." He lowered his head to hers and kissed her on the mouth, parting her lips with his tongue.

"By all means, lead on," Gail had said eagerly. His hand was already moving down her body, and she'd opened her legs to him.

Cas was daydreaming now, thinking about their night together. He missed Gail already, but he did understand her occasional need for independence. Still, he sent out The Eye to have a peek at her now, and he was just in time to see her teasing Dean about kissing Nicole, just the same way that Dean always teased them. Cas laughed. She could always make him laugh.

That was a good one, my love, he said to her over their frequency. Please give everyone my love, and take the biggest helping for yourself. I'll see you in the Garden, later on.

Gail sat back in her chair, tilting her head to the side. Cas's voice was in her mind, acting like a warm caress. She smiled. I love you, sweetie. It's a date, she said in return.

"Hey, what's the goofy look all about?" Dean asked her, loading up his plate with the food that Nicole was bringing to the table.

Gail told him, and Dean shook his head slowly. "Great. Now he doesn't even have to BE here for you guys to drive me nuts."

She shrugged, grinning. "I guess he really IS omnipresent, after all."

Sam came into the kitchen, yawning and stretching. "Thanks for making breakfast, Nicole," he remarked, walking over to the coffeemaker.

"How do you know Nicole made it?" Dean asked his brother.

Sam poured himself a coffee, smirking. "You're right. My apologies. Gail could have made it, too."

"You were in bed late this morning," Gail said to him.

"Yeah, well, I got back from Quinn's late," Sam replied. He sat down beside her at the table. He and Dean exchanged a glance, and then Sam started to spoon some eggs onto his plate.

Hmmm. Strange. Gail wondered what THAT was all about. But she thought she'd better let it go. She wasn't sure if she should get into it in front of Nicole.

As the group was in the bunker making small talk over breakfast, Cas and Bobby were talking. Cas had given their friend Matt's description, and the names and descriptions of the men he would be with. Since they'd died together, they would be in the Garden together. Bobby had nodded, adding them dutifully to the list.

But it was odd, and this was something that was beginning to concern Cas: he had sent out The Eye himself this morning, and he had been unable to find them. First Felicia, and now, Frank's friends. Had the Father given him a blind spot, maybe, to prevent favouritism? In any event, Cas vowed to himself that he would do whatever he could to set Frank's mind at ease about his friends. He knew how much they had meant to each other, and how devastated Frank had been when they had been killed. But the fact that Cas couldn't see them was worrisome. He hadn't even told Gail about that yet.

Cas and Bobby said their goodbyes, and then they winked themselves to different areas of the Garden to get to work.

Jody had gotten on the road fairly early that morning, and she was getting closer to Sioux Falls now. She had gone through a drive-thru fast food place to get coffee and a breakfast sandwich. She'd downed the sandwich in a couple of bites and swigged the coffee, and then she'd turned on the radio, and turned up the volume. A song came on that she particularly liked, and she cranked the dial and sang along. What she lacked in melody, she made up for in enthusiasm, Jody thought with some amusement. But, that was OK. No one was here, and she could do what she damn well pleased.

She was enjoying the solitude right now, but it had been very hard for her to leave the house this morning. The part of her mind that produced the same irrational thoughts that everyone had from time to time had been telling her that if she didn't leave the house, her diagnosis wouldn't be real. Any minute now, Nelly was going to call Jody and say that she was really sorry, but they'd mixed up her test results with some other unfortunate woman's.

Frank had been puttering around the kitchen, scrounging up some breakfast and heating up Angela's bottle. Rob had been talking excitedly to his dad about his internship at the Vancouver newspaper. Imagine being able to write for a living someday. Or even part-time. The young man had typed copious notes for story ideas into his father's laptop. Frank had capitulated a while back and told Rob to just take the computer. Frank didn't really use it, anyway. But that was a red herring, of course. Rob's birthday was coming up in a couple of months, and Frank and Jody had already decided: They were going to buy him a new laptop, put it in the trunk of the new car they were also buying him, and drive it up to Vancouver with Angela in the car seat, to have a family celebration.

Jody had given her fellows a hug and a kiss each, chucked Angela under the chin, and left the house, before she could change her mind. Now, she was making excellent time, but the irrational thought factory was working overtime. Maybe, if she pulled off the highway and went somewhere else, she wouldn't have cancer. Wasn't there an Indian casino around here somewhere? For an instant, she seriously considered it. Cas had rebelled against Heaven at one time, hadn't he? So why couldn't Jody rebel against being a middle-aged wife and mother who was about to walk into a white, antiseptic office, and be told that her life was about to undergo a radical change? That was, if her life was going to continue at all. The urge to say "Why me?" was becoming overwhelming. Most people asked that question at some point, and many people asked it of God, like they thought that the Almighty was out to get them, or something. But God was Jody's brother-in-law, and he was a nice guy. So who was she supposed to rant and rave to, exactly? And why should Jody be exempt from life's problems, anyway?

She drove on.

Gail had delivered Nicole to the movie set, and then she had come back to the bunker, gotten Dean, and zapped him over to her and Cas's house. She had made him wait a couple of minutes while she cleaned up the dust that had accumulated there, and then they'd gotten into her and Cas's car and driven over to Frank's place.

Rob was already standing on the sidewalk in front of the house. "Both Dad and Angela are having a nap, so I figured I'd just wait for you out here," he told them. Dean got out of the drivers' seat and walked around to the passenger side, where Gail was sitting. Rob settled in the driver's seat as Dean opened the passenger side door, gesturing to Gail.

"In the back, Mrs. God," he told her. "I'm the teacher. I sit up front."

She sighed, but she got out obediently and went to the back seat. Rob adjusted the seat and the mirrors while Dean turned on the radio.

Gail's lips twitched as Dean groaned. She had all the stations pre-set to pop music and Top 40. Dean kept punching buttons, and he started to swear in frustration. "Don't you have any decent music on this thing?"

"What do you mean?" she said innocently. "That's good music, Dean."

"OK, number one, it's not," he grumbled, "and, number two..."

She waited, but he just kept pushing buttons. "Number two...what?" she asked, curious.

"That's it," he retorted. "This music is all crap. It's number two." Dean couldn't believe it. He kept on punching buttons, as if doing so enough times would change the outcome. Every station was pop music, or even worse, hip-hop. Every. Damn. Station.

Gail was trying not to laugh, but it was becoming increasingly difficult. Rob turned towards Dean. "If you're finished having a cow, I'm ready to go, Uncle Dean," the young man said, amused.

"Nobody's going anywhere until I find something listen-able," Dean said through gritted teeth.

"Hey, I like all that stuff," Rob protested. "And besides, Uncle Sam told me that's the way it works: Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cake-hole. He told me to tell you that, if you complained about Aunt Gail's music."

Dean did a double-take, and then his expression morphed into a strange mixture of pride, disgust, and outrage. Then Gail did start to laugh. She just about slid out of the back seat. "Wait till I tell Sam," she crowed. "You should see the look on your face! Too funny!"

Dean glared at her. Then he snapped off the radio. "Never mind. Rob should be concentrating on his driving, anyway."

Rob grinned at Gail, turning on the ignition. "Don't worry, Aunt Gail. When Mom and Dad give me my car, I'll put all the good stations on the radio."

She eyed him. "Did your parents TELL you they're getting you a car?"

He smiled, pulling away from the curb. "Nope."

Gail nodded. Her nephew, the psychic. "But don't say anything to them, OK, you guys?" Rob continued. "I don't want to spoil their surprise. I know how excited they are about it."

Both Gail and Dean promised not to tell. Gail sat back and looked out the window, watching the scenery go by. What a nice day it was shaping up to be. "I'll tell you what, you guys," she said. "The Almighty gave me some spending money, and it's burning a hole in my pocket. Once Rob's driving lesson is over, we'll go to the city and get him to do some parallel parking, and then I'll treat you guys to lunch. How does that sound?"

"What about YOUR lesson?" Dean said warily.

"Ahhhh, the heck with it," she said happily. "It's such a nice day, I think I'll just sit back and enjoy the limo ride."

"Thank God," Dean sighed, relieved.

Gail grinned. "He says you're welcome."

They drove on down the road. "Let's hear some tunes, Rob," Gail exhorted her nephew. Rob turned on the radio, and Dean groaned again.

"So, bottom line it for me, Nelly: what are my options?" Jody asked her doctor friend.

Nelly sighed. "There aren't too many, Jody. I'm sorry. If you wanted, we could try to do a lumpectomy. But if you want the truth, it's risky. If the cancer metastasizes, you're just asking for trouble. So I would recommend the full mastectomy, with removal of the lymph nodes, following up with chemotherapy."

Jody was so shocked that she felt her whole body freeze. "What the hell, Nelly? We're talking about a little lump here! Aren't we?"

Nelly made a face. "Not exactly. If you'd had your mammograms last year, we probably would have caught it a lot sooner. But the mass is larger now."

Jody couldn't believe it. But she had no one but herself to blame for that. Nelly had reminded her several times to have the tests, and Jody had kept putting it off.

Nelly was on the verge of tears now. "I'm so sorry, Jody," she said to her friend. "I would give anything not to be telling you this. But we have to treat it aggressively; otherwise...well, you know. Go home and talk to Frank, and give me a call once you decide. I have some connections; I can talk to some people at Lebanon General and ask them to fast-track your surgery."

Jody continued to just sit there, not saying a word. Well, holy crap. How in the hell was she going to tell Frank about this? He was going to freak out. She hadn't even told him about the mammograms. When she'd initially had the tests a few years ago, he had been so nervous. So she hadn't wanted to put him through that again this time. She had honestly thought of the tests as just a formality. If you looked up "denial" in the dictionary, her picture would have been featured prominently.

"There are all kinds of innovations these days, Jody," Nelly was saying now. "Breast reconstruction, better medications...it's not like in your mom's day, I promise."

"Take me for a drink," Jody blurted out.

Nelly brightened. "Sure. I'll close the office, and we'll go for lunch."

"No, not lunch. A drink," Jody said. "Maybe two. Then, I'm going to go home to talk to my husband."

"It'll be all right, Jody," Nelly told her. "We'll make sure you're all right."

But it wasn't Nelly whose chest they were going to carve up, was it? Jody thought resentfully. But that was unfair, and she knew it. Nelly cared about her, and her doctor friend was only trying to keep her spirits up.

"Let's go," Jody said, grabbing her purse.

"That was a good piece of parking, Rob," Dean told the teenager. They were getting out of the car in the downtown area now. Rob had wanted to practice parallel parking, so he had done it a few times, in different locations. Then they had spotted a restaurant while circling the block, and Dean had suggested that Rob should park in the first curbside spot he could find. So they had parked around the corner from the place, and Dean was digging in his pockets for change, squinting at the parking meter.

"I hate these things," he grumbled. "I can never figure out how much you're supposed to put in, or for how long." He looked at Rob. "Got any change?" As Rob started to dig into his pants pocket, Dean looked at Gail. She gave him a half-shrug, and he threw his hands up in frustration. What else was new?

Gail's lips twitched. It was fun to watch Dean get wound up sometimes. She stepped forward. "Tell Cas to look the other way for a minute," she joked. Then she touched the parking meter, and the needle moved to the maximum setting. "I can never read these things either, but I think we might be good for a couple of days, now," she quipped.

Dean flashed her a grin. "Thanks, Mrs. Lord. Come on, let's go. I'm starving."

They walked around the corner, chatting about Rob's upcoming trip to Vancouver. "Barry's gonna take me to the casino and show me around," Rob told Gail. "I don't know if I'm old enough to gamble, but I just wanted to see the place, anyway."

"You should go to the Poker Room and look at the High Limit tables," Gail said, nudging him gently. "Your Uncle Cas used to clean up there. That's how we met Barry, actually."

A young girl in a bright red hoodie was walking towards them on the sidewalk, and she stopped short when she saw the trio. "Excuse me, I wonder if you guys can help me?" she said politely. "I'm looking for an address, and I think I'm lost."

"Sure," Rob said, moving towards her. She was kind of cute. "Where are you trying to go?"

"I have a map here - " the girl said, as the three of them approached her. Then suddenly, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a gun. "I have a message from Crowley," the girl said. "The Holy War is on." She shot Rob three times, in quick succession. He had been standing the closest to her, preparing to look at the map she'd said she had. Then the girl shot Gail twice, as Rob fell to the sidewalk.

By the time the girl was aiming the gun at Dean, he was already on the move. She shot at him, but the bullet only grazed his arm. All those years of experience with Hunting had given him a sixth sense about these types of things, and he acted swiftly. He rushed the girl and wrestled the gun out of her hand. They made eye contact, and her eyes turned black. Crap!

The Demon grinned, but before It could knock Dean into next week, Gail grabbed them both and popped them into the alleyway. She took her Angel blade out of her pocket and offered it to Dean, but he said, "Don't worry; I'm packing." He took a Demon blade out of his jacket. "Go. Get help," he told her. She winked back out to the sidewalk where Rob lay.

Dean stuck the Demon girl with the blade just as the black smoke issued from her mouth. Double crap! The bitch had smoked out. The human girl the Demon had been possessing fell to the ground, dead. Great. Just great. But he couldn't worry about that now. Rob was the priority. Dean shoved the Demon blade back in his jacket pocket and then ran down the alleyway toward the street.

The homeless man emerged from behind the dumpster where he had been hiding, cowering in fear. He'd been rooting around in the bin when that man and woman had suddenly appeared, holding onto a young girl. Then the woman had offered a large dagger to the man, but he'd said he had his own, and then the woman had disappeared. The man had stabbed the young girl with the knife he'd had in his hand, and some black smoke had come out of her mouth. Then she had fallen down on the ground as the man stood over her body, his knife dripping with her blood. Then the man had sworn loudly, put the knife in his pocket, and then took off.

Zeke stood there now, frozen in terror. What should he do now? Was the girl dead? She looked dead. He should probably go over there and check. But what if somebody came along and saw him standing over her? He could swear up and down that he hadn't been the one to hurt her, but Zeke knew how things worked in the real world.

Then he heard the sirens, and that decided him. Zeke turned around and hightailed it out of there.

When Gail had popped in and out, she hadn't even thought about the potential for eyewitnesses. She'd just been so panicked at the sight of Rob having been shot. She realized that she was shot too, of course, but the wounds must not be that bad, because she was still standing. Either that, or the adrenaline produced by the fear had temporarily overridden everything else. The gunshots had hurt her vessel, but right now, her priority was her nephew.

People gathered around as she knelt down beside Rob on the sidewalk. He was bleeding copiously, and he appeared to be unconscious. If only these people weren't around, maybe she could see if she could heal him. But Rob had bullets in his body now, and there was nothing she could do about that.

Then she heard the siren. She jumped to her feet and ran out into the street. Unbelievably, there was an ambulance, coming her way. She stepped in front of it and waved her arms, flagging it down.

Pete slammed on the brakes. He'd been driving leisurely down the street, asking his partner where he'd like to go for lunch, when he'd heard the unmistakable sound of gunshots. So he had put the siren on and floored the gas, and now here was one of the apparent victims, hailing the ambulance.

Pete stopped the vehicle just as Dean came running around the corner. Gail looked at him. "Is she - " Gail said, and Dean said, "Gone."

But there was no time for details. "Are you all right?" Pete asked her, but she shook her head, grabbing him by the arm. "I'm fine. Somebody else needs help. Come with me."

As Pete's partner opened the back doors of the ambulance, Gail led Pete over to where Rob lay. After a cursory examination of the boy, Pete hurried over to the ambulance and helped his partner bring out the stretcher. They got Rob onto it and put him in the back of the ambulance as Gail grabbed Dean's hand.

"We want to go with you," she told the attendants. "We're his parents." That was a trick that she had learned from Cas. Hospital personnel were much more inclined to allow you to be with your loved ones if you told them that you were related to them. She didn't feel one bit guilty about lying, either. Rob WAS her family.

As Gail and Dean sat holding hands in the back of the ambulance, Gail sent out the emergency call to Cas on their frequency, telling him to meet them at the hospital. The instant they'd gotten in the ambulance, Dean had asked the attendant where they were taking Rob. The man was working on the teen now as Gail and Dean sat on the jump seat, tight-lipped with shock. What the hell had just happened back there? It had been so sudden, and so out of the blue. Crowley said the Holy War was on? Why? Had he sent that Demon to target them? And if so, why now? Crowley and Cas hadn't even spoken since before Cas went to the desert, and there had been no aggression between them after that. None.

Gail squeezed Dean's hand almost painfully as the EMT tore Rob's shirt open to look closer at his wounds. It looked like there was a bullet in his chest above where his heart would be, and one in his stomach. She couldn't see a third, even though she was sure there had been three shots. But did it really matter? There was so much blood, and the boy looked so pale.

"Dean..." she wailed, and he put his arms around her, holding her. Oh, crap. This was bad. "He'll be all right, Gail," Dean muttered, because that was what he was supposed to say. But how the hell did he know? Once they made sure that Rob was taken care of, Dean was going to insist that Cas take him to the crossroads, so he could watch Cas carve the King of Hell into tiny little pieces. Why hadn't they killed Crowley years ago? There always seemed to be some kind of excuse. But the bottom line was that this was on all of them. Rob had to be all right. He just had to be. His dad was buying him a car.

"I'm sorry," Dean said out loud. Who was he apologizing to? Rob? Gail? Frank and Jody? Crap! Frank and Jody.

"We've gotta call Frank," Dean said, reaching into his pocket for his cell phone.

She put her hand on his arm. "He and Cas are already at the hospital." She looked at the EMT. "How is he? How long until we get there?"

"We'll be there in about ten minutes," he told her, and then he went back to work. Gail noticed he hadn't answered her other question, the really important one. Her shoulder hurt. She glanced down at herself. The upper right part of her top was soaked in blood, and there was a hole where the bullet had gone in. She shouldn't have looked. Now that she had, it really hurt. Where was the other one? Oh. There. In the top of her left thigh.

Dean saw where she was looking. "Did she get you?" he asked his Angel friend.

"Yeah, but I'll get fixed up once we get to the hospital," she told him with a pointed look, and Dean nodded. In his panic about Rob, he'd forgotten who her husband was. Gail wasn't gonna need a doctor.

"How about you?" Gail asked, and Dean showed her his arm. "Just a flesh wound," he replied. Gail sighed with relief. Well, thank goodness for that, anyway.

They arrived at the hospital's emergency entrance. Dean and Gail scrambled out the back as Pete and the other man took Rob out of the back and then wheeled him through the sliding doors.

Frank and Cas were just inside, and they rushed over to the gurney now. "Watch out, Sir," Pete said to Frank.

"I'm his father," Frank said loudly. The EMTs glanced briefly at Dean and Gail, but they kept on moving. There was no time to sort out relationships now. The young man on the stretcher needed to get to the operating room, right away.

"Please move," Pete said to Frank, who was trying to get a look at Rob's face. If he could only see his son's face, then he could be sure that Rob was going to be OK. But Cas put his hand on Frank's arm, gently moving him away from the rolling stretcher. "Let them by, Frank," he said softly. Frank moved aside and Cas touched Rob quickly, as the men rolled him past. Still alive. His wounds were serious, but Rob lived. Thank you, Father. If Cas had a few minutes alone with his nephew, he could dig the bullets out of his body and heal the bleeding wounds. But there might be internal damage to the boy's organs, and he would need to receive some more blood. Best to let the professionals do their jobs.

The EMTs wheeled Rob to the elevator, whisking him upstairs to the surgical wing as Cas, Frank, Gail and Dean all stood there, frozen. Then Cas's paralysis broke as he looked at Gail. Tears were streaming down her face, and her clothes were soaked with blood now. Cas rushed to her. "You're shot," he stated.

Under ordinary circumstances, Dean or Frank would have rolled their eyes, calling him Captain Obvious. But no one felt like joking right now.

"What the hell happened?" Frank demanded angrily.

"Dean, take Frank into the waiting room," Cas instructed their friend. "Gail and I will be with you in a moment." He took his wife by the hand and led her around a corner. When he was satisfied that no one was watching them, he winked her into a supply closet.

"Let me see," he said to her. He lifted her top and slipped her arm out of the sleeve where the wound near her shoulder was, and she winced in pain. "I'm sorry, my love. I'll be as quick as I can." He probed the area and dug the bullet out with his fingers as Gail whimpered. Then he healed the wound, and she sighed. He helped her put her arm through the sleeve of her top again, and then she undid her pants and Cas pulled them gently down to her knees. He did the same with the bullet in her thigh as she grabbed a towel from the shelf and gripped it tightly, wincing against the pain.

Cas kissed her thigh softly, after he had healed her. Then he rose to his feet as she did up her pants. "Are you hurt anywhere else?" he asked her, and she shook her head.

A moment later, they came back out to the waiting room, hand in hand. "Do you have a bullet wound, Dean?" Cas asked his friend.

"It just grazed me," Dean said, showing Cas his arm. Cas placed his hand on the wound, and it was gone instantly. "Thanks, Cas," Dean said, giving his friend a tight smile.

Cas and Gail sat down together on a small settee beside Frank. Gail put her hand on her brother's arm. "How are you doing?" she asked him. "Where's Jody?"

"She's coming back from Sioux Falls," he replied. "I didn't want her driving off the road somewhere if I called her and told her what was going on, or if Cas just suddenly showed up in the car. So I texted her to call me as soon as she got home. Liz is babysitting Angela."

"How bad is it?" Cas asked him. "Have any doctors been here to talk to you while we were gone?" When Frank shook his head, Cas rose. "I'll go get someone."

As Cas walked away, Frank looked at Gail. "Dean told me what happened," he said to his sister. "The second I find out my boy is gonna be OK, I'm going to have your husband take me to the crossroads, so I can have a little one-on-one with the King of Hell. And only one of us will be coming back from that conversation."

Gail frowned. "I understand how you feel, Frank. But, let Cas handle it. You've got a wife and a baby girl too, and Rob is going to need you when he wakes up."

Cas came back. "I spoke with a nurse. She said that every available doctor is working on Rob right now. Once he comes out of surgery, one of them will be here to talk to us."

"I'm sorry, Frank," Gail said to her brother as Cas sat back down beside her. "You know if there was anything I could have done for him..."

"Yeah, I know," he said soberly. "Dean told me how fast it all happened. But at least the ambulance was right there. He's gonna be all right. He's gonna be all right," Frank repeated. He had to believe that, or he was going to lose his damn mind. He wished Jody would hurry up and get home. He gave his sister a grim smile. "I'm glad you're an Angel, or I'd be freaking out about you, too. But how are you going to explain to them how you came in here, shot, and now suddenly, you're un-shot?"

"We'll just say the bullets missed us," Gail responded. "I doubt anybody really noticed us, anyway."

Frank's cell phone rang, and he took it out of his pocket, looking at the display. "It's Jody," he told everyone. He answered it. "Are you home, already?" He listened for a moment, his brow furrowing.

Jody had started to drive home, and she'd just pulled into a gas station to fill up when she got the text from her husband. She looked at it, curious. All he'd said was that she was supposed to call him as soon as she got home. Oh. Okay. He must have decided to pack Angela up and go somewhere. Whatever.

She and Nelly had had a couple of drinks together. During the first round, they'd made small talk, at Jody's insistence. She also didn't want to be one of those people who only talked about themselves and their medical status, to the exclusion of everything else. But then the talk had inevitably circled back to her, and her diagnosis. Nelly provided an ear while Jody went through a checklist of things she needed to do once she got home. Jody was trying to approach this like she would an investigation, ticking all the boxes. Tell Frank, get the kids all sorted out, pack for the hospital. "I don't know if he'll feel like it, but I'm going to tell Frank that we'd better get busy the night before I go in. It'll be his last chance to have two of them to play with," Jody had wisecracked. Nelly had laughed dutifully, but Jody's friend knew that her friend and patient was just putting on a brave front.

After the second drink, Jody had hugged Nelly and said she'd better head home before she was tempted to have another. All she would need was being pulled over for a DUI by one of her former colleagues. She'd told Nelly that she would call her soon, likely in the next day or so, to make the arrangements. And then she'd started the trip home.

Once Jody had received the text from her husband and she was back on the road, she'd started to visualize how she was going to break the news to Frank. SHE was going to end up comforting HIM, she was sure. Beneath his tough, wisecracking facade, Frank was a big, squishy marshmallow. He wasn't going to care about one less boob, but he WAS going to freak out about his wife's health. She would have to look up the statistics for the survival of breast cancer patients, and present him with those. Actually, seeing something like that in black and white would probably make Jody feel better, too.

Why did he want her to call him "as soon as" she got home? The phraseology was starting to bother her now. She and Frank were usually pretty casual about those kinds of things. You had to be, when you had two kids, and shared responsibilities. They usually knew where the other was, or roughly what time they could be expected to be home. But whenever they texted each other, it was usually an "I'll see you when I see you" type of situation. Call me "as soon as" you get home? That was unusual. What was going on? Or was she reading too much into it, because she had a huge, unexploded bomb to drop in his lap once she arrived?

Frank had no choice. Jody had pulled off the road and called him, asking what was going on. So he stammered out the news. Cas asked where Jody was, and while she was still on the phone with Frank, Cas popped over to the parking lot she had stopped in to make the call. Jody hung up the phone and dropped it on the car seat as Cas held her for a moment. Once she'd stopped shaking, Cas told her that he would get one of the Angels, maybe Chuck, to come down and drive the car the rest of the way to their house. Then he brought Jody to the waiting room of the hospital, and she and Frank sat down together, clutching at each other for support.

While this was going on, Dean had gone down the hall to get coffee for everyone, just to have something to do while they were all waiting. Gail went with him to help, because she needed something to do, too.

"Thanks," Dean said when Gail handed him a couple of bills for the vending machine. He smiled thinly. "I think this is the first time I've ever seen you pay for anything."

"Yeah, well, don't get too used to it," she retorted softly. "But, seriously, I just wanted to say thank you."

"For what?" he asked her, puzzled.

"If you hadn't gotten the gun away from her as quickly as you did, who knows how much more damage that Thing would have done," Gail replied angrily.

Dean shrugged. "Yeah, well...I wasn't quick enough, was I?" He looked at her. "Besides, we all need to be thanking you and Cas. I don't know how regular Hunters do it, without God and the Angels around to fix them up all the time." He fed the money into the machine.

"Maybe we should be instituting some kind of a Loyalty Card program," Gail quipped. "After 9 wounds, the 10th one is free."

They both laughed for a moment, but then they stopped. It felt unnatural to be laughing right now. Dean got himself a coffee, and then he asked her if she or Cas might want one. Gail demurred, but she offered to carry coffees for Frank and Jody, just in case they wanted them.

Cas had already brought Jody there by the time that Dean and Gail got back, and Dean pulled out his cell phone to call Sam. Then a nurse came to see them, and Frank and Jody rose nervously from their seats. But, the nurse apologized. There was no news yet. She was here to tend to the other victims.

"I'm sorry; we've just been so busy here today," the nurse said, approaching Gail. "I can take you now."

"Me? No, I'm fine," Gail told the woman. "The bullets missed me."

The nurse's forehead wrinkled. "But, your clothes are all bloody."

Oh. Right. Gail berated herself. She'd been so preoccupied about Rob that she had forgotten to clean herself. She thought fast. "The blood's not mine," she told the nurse.

The woman touched Gail's bloody shoulder. "Isn't that a bullet hole?" she asked sharply. "And, isn't that another one?" She pointed to Gail's jeans.

Oh, crap. Gail's mouth opened, then closed. She had nothing.

Cas sighed. He put two fingers on the nurse's forehead and modified her memory. Once she left the waiting room, Dean said, "Why don't you guys just do that all the time? Wouldn't that make things a lot easier?"

"Because it's a form of violation," Cas said soberly. "Just because we CAN do something, that doesn't mean that we SHOULD. That's a lesson the Archangels never learned. They always thought of humans as toys, to play with as they wished. Even Gabriel used to feel that way, if you'll recall. He's gotten much better since we rediscovered him in Area 51, but I know he still struggles with the notion, sometimes."

Frank had been just about to say something about not giving a rat's ass about the Archangels when a doctor approached them. "You're the boy's parents?" he asked, looking at Frank, and then at Dean. Frank did a double-take. "Remind me to find that funny later on," he said, taking Jody's hand. "WE'RE Rob's parents."

"He's in critical condition," the doctor said without preliminary. "We did everything we could."

"What the hell does that mean?!" Jody exclaimed. Frank gave her hand a gentle squeeze. She'd had the smell of alcohol on her breath when Cas had first brought her here. She must have had a brewskie with her old cop buddies. It was unusual behaviour for her, but it wasn't anything that Frank himself hadn't done before. Every once in a while he'd come home smelling of beer after dropping in on the Winchesters.

"It means that we'll have to wait and see," the doctor replied. "His wounds were very serious. That's all I can tell you for now."

"I want to see him," Jody demanded.

"I'll take you to the ICU," the doctor said. "He's not responsive at the moment. We've had to give him a lot of blood already, but he'll probably need more."

"I'll give you mine. As much as you want," Frank said quickly, as Jody cursed herself. She'd had to have those drinks, hadn't she? But, wait. They were getting ahead of themselves, here.

"We're not his birth parents," Jody told the doctor. "He's adopted."

"Oh," the surgeon remarked. "Well, if you'll all give us samples of your blood, we'll test all the samples, anyway. You never know. He's got an unusual chromosome I don't think I've ever seen before. I'd prefer to get a match, if possible."

Sam had walked into the room just in time to hear the latter part of their conversation. Cas had sent a message to Bobby on Angel Radio, asking him if he could help with transportation. He knew how much Rob meant to Bobby, as well. So Bobby had winked Sam here to the hospital, and he was currently taking Chuck to where Frank and Jody's car was. Then Bobby was going to come back here and join the vigil.

Sam had perked up as soon as he'd heard what the doctor had said about a match. As Frank and Jody followed the surgeon out of the room, Dean's brother turned to Gail. "I think you might be the key," he said to her.

Gail looked at him, puzzled. "What do you mean, Sam?"

"Isn't Rob your half-brother?" Sam said, and Gail's eyes widened. She hadn't thought of that. "Would that even work?" she asked Cas eagerly.

He thought for a moment. "I don't see why not. You're still in your original vessel. Therefore, if the two of you share a father, you might have that same chromosome."

Gail's face broke into the first genuine smile she'd had since the shooting. "And you thought I was just being stubborn, when I insisted on keeping my same vessel after that stupid panther attacked me! I guess it turns out there was a reason for all that suffering, after all. I'm going to get to help Rob get better, Cas. I'm going to give them as much blood as they need."

Cas frowned. "Let's not put the cart before the horse. First of all, your vessel needs blood, too. And secondly, we have no proof that you and Rob are related, only supposition."

"I'll tell you what," Sam said. "How about if we go to Cathy Scanlon's office, and check her records? Then we can be sure. I'm ninety-nine percent sure she knows, or even if she doesn't know, we can see if there's anything in her files that points to a commonality."

"That's an excellent idea," Cas mused. He looked at his wife. "How about this? You go with Sam, and I will stay here, in case Frank and Jody need my services."

Gail was eyeing him. "You'll stay here? Do you promise?"

He was looking at her calmly. "Yes, I promise." And, depending upon Rob's prognosis and the results of Dean and Cas's upcoming conversation, he might even be telling her the truth.

After another moment, Gail sighed. She could read her husband like a book. But she couldn't worry about that right now. She had to see if she could help Rob. She gave Cas a quick kiss, and then she and Sam walked down the corridor to find a private spot, so she could wink them away.

Jody couldn't believe it. The one in that hospital bed should be her. Actually, it WOULD be her, shortly. Rob had a breathing tube, a heart monitor, a blood bag, and an IV, all hooked up to his slender body. She could barely even see him in there. His face was so pale. She leaned down and smoothed the hair away from his forehead, giving him a gentle kiss.

"He's going to be all right, Babe," Frank said softly. "He's a fighter, just like we are." But then his voice cracked, and he started to cry.

Jody put her arms around her husband, holding him tightly. OK, this was it, now. That was all she could take. She was maxed to the hilt. How had her life turned into such a huge pile of crap, all within the last 48 hours? Who had she pissed off this badly, anyway?

Suddenly, the machine that Rob was hooked up to started to blink, and their son started to convulse. Medical personnel rushed into the room.

"He's seizing!" one of the doctors called out. "I need the crash cart, STAT!"

A nurse steered a stunned Frank and Jody out of the room. "You'll have to wait out here," she told them, and then she closed the door to Rob's room.

"Clear!" they heard the doctor yell from inside. Then, a moment later: "Again! He's not responding!" They heard the monitor start to beep, and then it emitted a steady, high-pitched sound.

And that was when Jody started to scream.

Cathy Scanlon's office door was locked, and there was a "Closed" sign in the window. Good, Gail thought. She hadn't really wanted to talk to the woman, anyway.

She grabbed Sam's hand and winked them inside. "You're the computer guy," Gail said to him, gesturing to Cathy's desk. "You do your thing, and I'll poke around in the back, to see if I can find any paper files."

Sam nodded his agreement, and he moved over to the desk to search through her computer. Meanwhile, Gail went to the back room and began opening file cabinets. This went on for a while, but she didn't see anything that could possibly pertain to herself, or Rob, or Vincent.

"Anything?" she called out to Sam.

"Nothing," he called back. "You?"

She had been about to respond in kind when she went to pull open the next drawer and met with resistance. It was locked. Hmmm.

Gail walked back to the outer office. "There's a drawer that's locked," she told Sam. "Can you look and see if there are any keys in the desk drawers?"

Sam turned to look at her. Then he raised an eyebrow. "Girlfriend, please. Remember who you're talking to," he said, putting on a funny voice, trying to get her to smile.

He was rewarded with a quick laugh. "'Girlfriend, please'?" Gail repeated, shaking her head. "Since when were you in the cast of Waiting To Exhale?"

"I just wanted to make you smile," Sam said to her, rising from Cathy's chair.

"I'll smile plenty once I know that Rob's going to be OK," she said fervently.

Sam picked up a ruler. "Show me," he said. She led him to the back room and indicated the drawer. "Stand back," he instructed, "just in case." Gail moved back, and Sam jammed the ruler in the crack of the drawer. Then he wiggled it around a bit. "Aha," he said softly. Then he tilted the ruler slowly towards himself. Once he had it at the angle he wanted, he pounded the ruler with his fist. It snapped in half, and a piece went flying across the room. "Et voila," he said as the drawer slid open.

"OK, I'm officially impressed," Gail remarked with a small smile, tilting her head.

Sam shrugged. "Simple physics," he said modestly. He reached into the drawer and grabbed a few files, handing them to her. Then he took a stack for himself. "The only problem is, the lock won't work anymore, now," Sam added.

Gail made a face. "Who cares?"

They went through a few files, and then Sam said, "Bingo. Baby Girl Gail. Father, Vincent, Mother, Abigail. Foster parents: Christina and Jim, Denver, Colorado." He held up the file.

Gail nodded, sighing. "So, it's really true, then. You know, a big part of me had been hoping all this time that he wasn't my father. That it was all a colossal mistake. But, maybe there's a reason for THAT now, too. Keep looking."

A moment later, Sam said, "Got it." He was holding up the file that had Rob's information in it. "It's here. Father, Vincent. No mother listed here, but there's a cross-reference to another file number."

"Are we sure that's even him, then?" Gail asked, quite reasonably. "Rob's a fairly common name."

Sam looked down at the file again. "Foster parents: Felicia and Mark. Gotta be."

"OK. That's good enough for me," she said briskly. "We'll take those two files with us. Here, help me put the rest back. Then we'll just close the cabinet back up. With any luck, she won't notice it's been tampered with; at least, not for a while." Gail rushed forward, shoving the file folders in the drawer.

Sam was bemused. "What's your hurry? Rob probably won't wake up for a while, from the sound of things."

"It's not only him that I'm worried about," Gail told Sam. "You're a smart guy. Why do you suppose I made Cas promise he would stay at the hospital? Dean told you what that Demon said when she opened fire, right?"

"Well, you know what?" Sam said angrily, his jaw clenching. "Crowley needs a good smiting. I've thought so for years. I wouldn't blame Cas one bit."

"No, Sam," she insisted. "There wouldn't be any winners in a Holy War, just lots of dead bodies. Besides, something about it just seems really fishy to me." She explained what she'd been thinking earlier, and Sam listened, then nodded thoughtfully. "You could be right," he said. "But, let's think about this for a minute. If Crowley doesn't want the Holy War, and Cas no longer wants the Holy War, then that begs the question: Who does?"

Gail pursed her lips. She had no answer for that question. "Let's go," she said, taking his hand.

"So, what happened, Dean?" Cas was asking his friend quietly. "Describe to me exactly what happened, from the moment you got out of the car."

Dean sighed. "I already told you, Cas. We parked, your wife fixed the meter - cool trick, by the way - we were walking down the street to the restaurant, hoodie girl says 'Excuse me' - "

"Hoodie?" Cas interrupted. "You didn't mention that before."

Dean gave a half-shrug. "OK. She was wearing a bright red hoodie. Like Little Miss Freakin' Riding Hood, or something. Whatever. Anyway, she asks us to help her with directions, we stop, she says she's got a map, she pulls a piece out of her pocket instead, and starts plugging away. And that was it. End of story."

"And you did or said nothing to provoke It?" Cas pressed on. He refused to call that abomination "her". His blood was boiling, but he had to get all the facts, first.

"No! I didn't even know the Thing was a Demon until I got closer," Dean replied. "I'm surprised Gail didn't know, though."

Cas frowned. He was wondering about that, too. As an Angel, Gail should have sensed what It was immediately. It was puzzling. Several things about the situation were puzzling him, in fact. "And what exactly did It say?" he pushed on.

"She said she had a message from Crowley; that the Holy War was on," Dean said, tight-lipped.

"And you didn't engage with this Demon in any way, aside from that?" Cas pressed his friend. "Are you absolutely sure that nothing else was said?"

"Of course I'm sure!" Dean said impatiently. He was exasperated now. It was almost like Cas was saying that it was Dean's fault, or something. Like he didn't believe him that nothing else had been said. "I didn't do a damn thing, Cas! None of us did! It was totally out of the blue. I swear, Cas. I swear."

Cas's eyes began to glow a bright blue. "I don't enjoy lying to my wife," he said in his quietest angry voice.

Dean's forehead wrinkled. "Huh?"

"I promised her I would stay here," Cas said, and his voice was almost a whisper now.

Then, Dean got it. "Look, man, as much as I want to see you wipe Crowley and the rest of those asshats off the map, maybe you should stay here, at least for now. I know that look," he said uneasily.

Frank and Jody came back into the waiting room. Frank had his arms around his wife, supporting her, and Jody was crying. Cas and Dean rose slowly from their seats. Then Sam and Gail walked into the room, just as Frank was opening his mouth to speak. But, for the first time in his life, Frank had nothing to say. Instead, he just burst into tears.

Raguel raised a glass to Rowena. "A toast, to the launch of Phase One," he said. "Tomorrow, we will kill a couple of Castiel's human pets. Then, we'll dispatch some of our Demon recruits to other locations. And then we will sit back, and watch the fireworks commence."

\- END OF BOOK 30. -


End file.
